Year of Beginnings
by flames and roses
Summary: ABANDONED. First in my Namesake series. Harrietta Grandy is sorted into Slytherin, and enters a web of lies and subtle manoeuvres and a world of bigotry. With her new friends James, Sirius, Remus, Peter and Lily, and her Slytherin allies, Hogwarts is good. But there are those who do not want a 'mudblood' sullying Salazar's noble house, and would do anything to get her out...
1. 1971 Chapter 1: The World of Magic

**A/N: I'm finally back! This chapter just kept saying 'no, I am not ready to be posted' and made me redo do it a bazillion times! But here it is, finally, the redone Namesake, Year of Beginnings Chapter 1. Thanks so much to all those who followed this story; really gave me the incentive and encouragement needed to get this out!**

 **Enjoy!**

Chapter 1: The World of Magic

 _Part 1: A literal cat lady_

* * *

July 23th, 1971, 10:30

 _So they thought they could keep me in the house? Yeah, right._

Eleven-year-old Harrietta Olivia Grandy hung by her knees on a low branch of a tree in her backyard, swinging harder and harder until she shot her hands out and grabbed the branch above that one. She disengaged her legs and tucked her knees up to her chest so they wouldn't get in the way, then dropped to the ground and executed a perfect cartwheel.

 _"So you won't get into trouble in the house while I'm outside?" Harrietta had asked her sister Belladonna, nine, cautiously._

 _"Yes, yes, Rieta," she confirmed irritably. "You go do your flipping thingys. I've got it under control."_

 _"If something goes wrong with the twins, Bella, I'm pinning the blame on you for suggesting this."_

 _"Sienna and Rollo will be fine. I'm not completely irresponsible."_

 _Rieta had snorted in disbelief. "Hallowe'en ring a bell?"_

 _Bella scowled. "Shut it, Harrietta, or I might not do this for you."_

 _"Sorry kiddo, but the idea's in my head now, and I've got far better blackmail material than anything you have."_

 _"Like what, huh?"_

 _"Oh, I've been holding it in so long, that time with the picnic rug and the corrosive acid from school might just slip my tongue…"_

 _"Oh, just get on out there already."_

And now Harrietta, or Rieta, as she preferred, was out there doing her 'flipping thingys', and having a great time of it. I just need to master the swinging drop with a cartwheel and then I move —

Rieta was jerked out of her musings when an all-too-familiar crash sounded from the house. She sprang up with a curse and raced inside.

Rieta's heart dropped when she witnessed the scene: her sister standing frozen in the doorway, caught between racing towards the scene of the crime and staring sheepishly at Rieta; Sienna with her little hands pressed to her mouth in fake contrition and badly disguised glee; Rollo standing with his hands spaced apart and a shocked expression on his face as he stared down at his feet, where lay the shattered remains of an expensive vase.

"Oh no…" Rieta moaned. "Bella, I told you —"

"It's okay!" called Sienna. "Look!"

Both older girls turned to see Sienna watching Rollo as he pulled all the pieces the vase into a little pile then arranged it so it was in a kind of vase shape.

"No! You'll cut yourself!" Rieta raced forward too late; Rollo gave a squeak of pain and Rieta saw crimson blood drip from his hands onto the porcelain.

Before any of them could act, the doorbell rang. Bella ran and opened it to reveal a tall, stern-looking middle aged woman with a stiff, straight back, dark hair done up in a bun and wearing, of all things, green tartan robes.

Rieta grabbed a quietly crying Rollo and lifted him up, then with Sienna trailing behind walked to in front of the woman, but before the young girl could say anything, she spoke in a strong voice. "Good morning, misses Grandy. Are your parents home?"

"Um…" Rieta was about to reply in the negative when she heard the familiar growl of a car being backed into their driveway. "They'll be up in a moment."

The woman nodded curtly and said, "Well, I can wait." She then bustled past the sisters and sat herself on one of the couches in the adjourning sitting room. "Let us proceed once your parents arrive."

"I need to help Rollo," Rieta told the woman.

"Of course."

Rieta gritted her teeth; this lady was acting like she was the hostess! She hadn't even introduced herself yet. "Ma'am, your name…?"

"My apologies, Ms. Grandy. I am Professor McGonagall."

Nodding curtly, Rieta hurried from the room and put a band aid on Rollo's finger, just before the door opened and Mrs. and Mr. Grandy entered.

* * *

July 23rd, 1971, 10:50

It turned out Mr. and Mrs. Grandy did not know Professor McGonagall, and she was here on behalf of a special opportunities boarding school in which she taught that Harrietta had caught the attention of.

"Now, my school is not a normal school. It… teaches the students magic." When she reached this point in her little speech the professor seemed to hesitate for a moment.

"Magic? Like magic tricks?" asked Mr. Grandy. "You're going to teach Rieta how to be a magician?"

"No, Mr. Grandy. We are going to teach your daughter real magic." Professor McGonagall then proceeded to explain to the stunned Grandys about the magical world:

"Within Britain, there are two societies: the one see around you, the Muggle, or non-magical one, and the one you don't see: the magical one, mine.

"There are magical folk all over the world, but they haven't interacted freely with the non-magical people for a thousand years, since the witch hunts of old. The fear that non-magicals have not changed since then coupled with the fact that Muggles outnumber us almost one thousand to one has made us keep the magical world secret for all those years.

"However, every now and again a magical child is born into a non-magical family, and when this occurs, they, along with almost every other magical child, goes to their nearest magical school; in Britain's case, Hogwarts.

"The reason for this is because if a child does not learn to control their magic it can go out of control and seriously damage the child, mentally and physically. Some magical born children are homeschooled, but as that is not an option for muggleborns like Harrietta, they must go to Hogwarts or some other magical school."

Rollo and Sienna suspended disbelief easily — instantly, they believed what the professor was saying. Belladonna withheld judgement without proof. And of course their parents didn't believe the professor at all, especially without proof.

Harrietta was highly skeptical. This was a professor, from a special opportunities school, talking about magic? But she seemed very serious, and what a story… it was so crazy it was impossible to be made up, wasn't it?

"Well, if it's true, then you'll be able to prove it, won't you, then?" she asked, gesturing subtly to the broken vase on the floor near the professor's feet.

McGonagall's eyes followed her hand, and they widened in realisation. She pulled a stick out of her robes and said, "Indeed I can, miss. Reparo!" She jabbed the stick forward

Seeing that the family was still uncertain, McGonagall rose to her feet; all eyes followed her as she smoothly became a cat,

Eagerly, Bella leaned forward. "So you're gonna teach Rieta how to do all that stuff?"

"I am, Ms. Grandy."

"Cool!"

And, just like that, it was settled.

From her robe (That sleeve was endless!), McGonagall pulled out a cream envelope and handed it to Rieta. Eagerly, she broke the seal and pulled out the first parchment.

 _HOGWARTS SCHOOL of WITCHCRAFT and WIZARDRY_

 _Headmaster: ALBUS DUMBLEDORE (Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorc., Chf. Warlock, Supreme Mugwump, International Confed. of Wizards)_

 _Dear Mrs. Grandy,_

 _We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment._

 _Term begins on September 1. We await your owl by no later than July 31._

 _Yours sincerely,_  
 _Minerva McGonagall, Deputy Headmistress_

Rieta read the letter, then slowly, she asked the questions that had popped up. "Hogwarts?"

"That is the name of our school, yes."

"Owl? What does it mean by that?"

Don't worry about that. When I return to Hogwarts to find out what other new students I will have to visit who didn't know about magic previously, I will put you down as one of the students who is coming. Owl post is the normal way for magical folk to communicate with each other — we write letters and send parcel via our owls," she explained. "All ink we use is magically programmed to go to whatever the receiver has been written down as." She indicated to the envelope, the front of which Rieta had not look at yet. It read,

 _Ms. H. Grandy_

 _Third Bedroom on the Left_

 _18 Ellerdale Road_

 _Hampstead_

 _London_

She raised her eyebrows at the overly-specific address, but did not comment. Then she asked, "What am I to bring to this Hogwarts?"

"There is a list of materials also in the envelope," answered McGonagall.

Rieta reached into the envelope again and pulled out a second parchment. This one contained a list of strange books such as One Thousand and One Magical Herbs and Fungi, and strange objects such as cauldrons and pointed hats. She handed the parchments to her parents, who, with Bella looking over their shoulder, read them slowly, then seemed to accept them as legit. Then Mrs. Grandy asked McGonagall where they were supposed to buy all of this.

"Today we will go to a place where you can. I will escort you."

"Today?" queried Mrs. Grandy.

"When else? I have a lot of other new students to initiate, you know."

"Of course."

Wait." Rieta looked at her parents. "So, I'm going to this Hogwarts?"

"Do you want to, dear?"

Rieta was about to answer when a not-so-nice thought occurred to her. "Professor McGonagall? I suppose there is a reason we haven't heard of the magical world before now."

McGonagall sighed. "The Statute of Secrecy."

"Secrecy? So I won't be able to tell anyone." It wasn't a question, but McGonagall nodded to confirm it anyway.

"Witches and wizards are only allowed to inform family members about their magic, and, if absolutely necessary, very close friends."

"I can't tell people Rieta's magic?"

Everyone jumped; they had completely forgotten about Rollo and Sienna!

McGonagall looked sternly at the two six-year-olds. "Under no circumstances are you to tell anyone without express permission, am I understood?"

She seemed to have forgotten the age of the people she was talking to. The twins shrank back at the long, stern, incomprehensible words which they recognised as some sort of scolding and shrank back. McGonagall seemed to realise her mistake and repeated her words in a more child-friendly way.

Rieta frowned, already wondering how she was going to keep going to Hogwarts a secret. Then she pushed it out of her mind for the moment and looked back down at the book list. "Where are we going to get all these?"

"There is a hidden location in London where we traditionally buy our necessities."

"Professor?"

McGonagall looked down at Bella, who had spoken. "Yes?"

"How are we going to get there?"

"Ah yes." McGonagall pulled a folded up newspaper out of her pocket, unfolded it, and laid it out on the table. "This is a Portkey, programmed to take us to a specific location, in this case, the Leaky Cauldron, a tavern that is the entrance to Diagon Alley, the equivalent of a Muggle shopping mall."

"Muggle?" asked Rieta.

"Non-magical folk, like your parents. By the way, Mr. and Mrs. Grandy, could you please bring some money? As much as possible, preferably. We will have to buy a lot, and as Rieta has no prior knowledge of the world of magic, it would be advisable to get some extra reading material so she can learn to understand it all. You may also have to start a new bank account at some point in the wizarding bank, but that can wait until later."

"Can you connect your bank to… Muggle banks?" Rieta asked thoughtfully.

"I believe so," said McGonagall, looking at Rieta with an appraising eye. "I am surprised to say I never thought of that, but the goblins can definitely handle that, even if they may need a little encouragement. However, bring some money any just in case, please."

The two adults nodded and Mr. Grandy went to get some money while Mrs. Grandy asked, "Will we need bags?"

McGonagall shook her head. "Most of the things you will buy will fit into the cauldron we will also buy, and if I have to I will conjure up some more bags." The four who could understand the concept blinked at the offhand way McGonagall said the word 'conjure', but she was already moving on. "Now, please place a hand on the newspaper. It will take us away in —" She checked an elaborate, golden watch on her wrist that had twelve hands but no numbers, strangely enough. "Just under two minutes. Any questions?"

"Ma'am, I think I'll stay here with the twins," Mrs. Grandy told her.

"Alright, Mrs. Grandy."

Mrs. Grandy then led the twins away. As those remaining all placed a hand on the newspaper, three apprehensively and one confidently, Bella spoke up again. "Ma'am? You said that my parents were, um, Muggles, but you didn't mention me, Rollo or Sienna. Does that mean that we're like Rieta? Magical?"

"You are perceptive," said McGonagall kindly. "Yes, there is a good chance you three too are magical."

Bella gasped, then grinned a little.

"Speaking of which, how do you know Rieta is like that?" Mrs. Grandy spoke suddenly.

"Accidental magic. Miss Grandy," McGonagall turned to Rieta without removing her hand from the Portkey. "Has anything strange ever happened when your emotions were high?"

"Er…" Rieta pondered this for a moment, but before she could reply, McGonagall told them to brace themselves. With a sudden tug at her naval, she felt herself go flying through the air, then land hard on her bottom. Springing up with the ease of a trained gymnast, she looked around, and realised she was in a completely different location.

 _Part 2: A dissolving brick wall_

 _'Springing up with the ease of a trained gymnast, she looked around, and realised she was in a completely different location.'_

* * *

July 23rd, 1971, 12:00

The room they had landed in was similar to a Muggle restaurant, albeit a bit shabbier and with a few prominent differences. The fire in the fireplace, for instance, was green, and everyone around was wearing differently coloured robes not unlike the green ones McGonagall had on.

Speaking of McGonagall, the lady was watching her in interest. "I see you're back up on your feet already, Miss Grandy. How was the ride?"

Shrugging, Rieta replied. "It's honestly not that much different from doing a flip of the high bar in gym class, ma'am."

McGonagall looked confused for a moment, then let it go. Rieta turned, seeing that the rest of her family was getting up from the ground where they had landed and looking about them with fascination as well. "Is this the Leaky Cauldron?" she asked.

"That it is, young lady!" Said a jovial voice from behind her. She turned to see an elderly man in his late forties behind the counter of the café-like place. Seeing her confusion, he stuck out his hand to her and introduced himself. "Tom, bartender of this place! And you are?"

Rieta took the hand and shook it shyly. "Harrietta Grandy, sir. Pleased to meet you."

"Ah, I'm no sir. And pleased to meet you too. So, are you here for your Hogwarts supplies?"

Rieta's initial shyness was overridden by by the man's easy-going, infectiously good attitude. She nodded. "That's right."

Tom glanced over her shoulder at her father, who was talking with McGonagall. "Ah. Muggle-born, are you?"

Rieta hesitated, trying to figure out what he meant. Then, remembering what the professor had told them just before, she nodded again. "That's right also… I think."

Tom chuckled. "Well, good luck to you, missus! I won't hold you up anymore. Go on." And he bid her farewell, and pushed her toward the conversing adults.

"Bye, sir — I mean, Tom," she smiled, then walked off.

McGonagall and Mr. Grandy turned when she came over. "We've been discussing this accidental magic thing, Rieta," her father said. "Apparently, magical people will inadvertently cause their magic to be released and cause strange thing to happen without their control when their emotions are high."

"Oh, like that time when Henry Thompson shoved Rieta in the playground and the his hands sprouted green warts?" asked Bella curiously, joining the conversation.

"That sounds about right," McGonagall told her while Rieta looked away self-consciously. Then she realised something.

"Hey, that same sort of thing happened to Bella!"

Everyone turned to look at her, and she continued. "On Bella's seventh birthday she unwrapped a present just by clapping her hands."

McGonagall nodded. "This increases the chance that both of you are magical, then," she told the sisters.

Mr. Grandy laughed. "I'm just feeling a tad left out," she said, slightly wistful.

"Well, as interesting as this conversation is, we really must get going," McGonagall stated firmly. "Follow me."

She led the Grandys to a wall at the back of the tavern that seemed perfectly normal, until McGonagall reached up with her wand and tapped a specific sequence of bricks. The wall melted away to reveal the most incredible place Rieta, Bella and Mr. Grandy had ever imagined, or maybe even never imagined.

Hundreds of people like McGonagall and Tom and even some non-magical folk like the Grandy parents ("Other muggle-borns," McGonagall explained), were all crowded into a bustling, twisting street with shops of all different types, shapes and heights on the right and left.

The sun shone down, illuminating the bright colours of the whole spectacle. Aromas wafted up through the doors of some shops, nice-smelling aromas like soap and warm food, and also some foul odours that seemed to be coming mainly from an apothecary shop.

The noise was so loud Rieta wondered how it was possible they hadn't heard it all from the Leaky Cauldron (and then immediately realised — magic). There was the general hubbub of a crammed street, and then there were shops full of animals — rats and mice scurrying around with little clicks and scrabbles, cats meowing, toads and frogs croaking, and owls hooting and cawing.

All the family of four could do was stare as the professor led them down the street past shops like Eeylops Owl Emporium, Florean Fortescue's Ice Cream Parlour, Flourish & Blotts Bookstore, Magical Menagerie, Quality Quidditch Supplies, Wiseacre's Wizarding Equipment, Madam Malkin's Robe Shop and more.

Finally, the five stopped in front of a large, imposing building at the very end of the street, which had to be the previously mentioned Diagon Alley. It was white with great pillars standing on either side of a huge set of burnished bronze double doors which were constantly swinging as people walked in and out. Above the doors a sign hung, which simply read, Gringotts. On either side of the doors were small, human-like creatures with calculating looks on their dark, wrinkly faces and pointed grey goatees.

"Gringotts," announced McGonagall, stopping. "The wizarding bank."

"You magical folk have pretty much everything we have, don't you?" wondered Mr. Grandy.

"Of course. Schools, shops, banks, a ministry."

"A ministry for magic?" he asked curiously.

"The Ministry for Magic, yes."

McGonagall walked forward and led them through the doors. Then they saw a second, smaller set of doors, and on these words were engraved. At first glance they appeared to make a poetic verse, but upon closer inspection turned out to be a dreadful warning.

 _Enter, stranger, but take heed_

 _Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

 _For those who take, but do not earn,_

 _Must pay most dearly in their turn._

 _So if you seek beneath our floors_

 _A treasure that was never yours,_

 _Thief, you have been warned, beware_

 _Of finding more than treasure there._

"Ominous," murmured Rieta. Her mother turned to her with a querying look, and in answer, Rieta pointed out the sign to all of them.

"That is creepy," agreed Bella.

"Yes," said McGonagall. "That sign has been there for as long as the bank has, which is a couple of centuries. The goblins do not take lightly anyone trying to steal from them. They guard anything under Gringotts jealously."

"Goblins?" Mr. Grandy turned to her.

"Gringotts is run by goblins, like the ones over there —" she gestured behind them to the red-and-gold uniformed creatures by the doors "— and curse-breaker wizards."

"Curse-breaker wizards?"

"Wizards whose career it is to find treasure and figure out, and thus break, curses on it for Gringotts, where any unowned wealth is stored. They are the equivalent of Muggle archeologists."

"What did you mean by 'under Gringotts', ma'am?" Bella piped up. "Don't you mean 'in Gringotts'?"

"I mean 'under Gringotts'. Gringotts itself is just the building. The tunnels and vaults where riches are stored, those go all over London, underground."

"Woah." Bella looked at the doors with new eyes.

"So how are going to go to get money?" asked Rieta.

"We will exchange the Muggle money your parents brought for its equivalent in wizarding money."

"And how does wizarding money work?"

Well, the smallest form, or the change, in Knuts — K-N-U-T-S. They are bronze, and we operate assuming they are equivalent to one penny, which they are, approximately." McGonagall paused. "Then there's Sickles — S-I-C-K-L-E-S. There are twenty-nine Knuts in one Sickle. They are black and silver, and approximately equivalent to 30 pennies." She paused again. "Lastly, there are Galleons — G-A-L-L-E-O-N-S. They a big and golden. There are seventeen Sickles and four hundred and ninety-three Knuts in one Galleon, and they are each approximately equivalent to five pounds."

"Okay," nodded Rieta, storing this useful information away in her head. Judging from the expressions on her family's' faces, they too were processing this.

Then McGonagall led them through the second set of doors. Inside them was a great, church-like hall with marble pillars and elaborate chandeliers, the walls lined with high desks, the whole place bustling just like it was outside.

The professor led them to the back of the room, where a desk stood alone against the wall. She stepped up onto the raised platform below it so that her face was elevated almost to the level of the face of a goblin. McGonagall looked up at him. "This man here would like to make an exchange of Muggle money for wizarding money," she stated, gesturing to Mr. Grandy.

"And may I see their Muggle money?" the goblin asked, extending a long-fingered, long-nailed hand towards the couple. Nervously, they each handed him their bulging purses. He opened them and emptied their contents into tray. As they fell, an invisible force separated them into different compartments, pennys, pounds and notes. The goblin snapped his fingers, and the tray sank into the marble desktop. In its place, a new tray appeared, with golden Galleons, silver Sickles and bronze Knuts, which he swept into the purses to replace the old money. There was so much, it didn't all fit — these coins were bigger.

The goblin frowned. "Would the Mr. like to open a new vault?"

McGonagall glanced at him. "I would advise it. You are going to have to come here every year," she told them.

"Alright," Mr. Grandy said. He nodded, and reached out for the purses.

However, the goblin ignored this and put all the money back in the tray, and asked for their surname, which Mr. Grandy gave. He then craned his head behind him and called, "Onenail!"

Out from behind the desk came another goblin, whose defining feature was one abnormally long nail on his left hand, even for a goblin. It was clear how he had gotten his name. Onenail took the tray from the first goblin and beckoned to the Grandys, plus McGonagall, who had stepped down. "Follow me," he commanded, walking off and not looking back.

The four humans hurried to comply. Onenail led them to a high, narrow door in in the adjacent wall, one of many of the same. He pushed it open and waited as they filed in, then followed, but quickly took the lead again. They went down a steep slope to a set of thin railroad tracks, at which point the goblin whistled piercingly. A small cart approached them at roller-coaster speed, but even as it came it was expanding to fit all six of them. They all climbed in, and without warning, it set off.

Onenail gripped the front of the cart with tight fingers, his extra-long nail scraping against the side with each jolt in the road. McGonagall, too, held on tight, her back hunched yet stiff. Although her face was straight, it was starting to develop a greenish tinge. Mr. Grandy's entire body was rolling and rocking with the cart as he had found no handhold before his arms were flung back by the sheer velocity of the ride. He was looking motion-sick.

But Bella and Rieta were laughing like little kids, which they technically still were. They had their arms flung back intentionally, completely trusting that the magic of the cart would prevent them from falling out. To them, it was a crazy, daredevil ride and they were having the times of their lives.

When they reached a halt, everyone climbed out, and Onenail led them to vault 616, where he placed a hand on the doorknob that had just appeared and opened it with ease. "This only works because it is an empty vault," he told them.

Inside, it was a bare chamber the size of a room, with plain metal walls. The only thing within was a golden key. Bella reached for it, but the goblin held her back with a warning finger. "If anyone could pick these up, anyone could have an unauthorised vault. Only a Gringotts goblin can penetrate the defensive spells around it now." He reached down and picked it up, but as he did there was a kind of zing in the air around them. "Now, we must make it so only a Gringotts goblin or someone with your blood can use it." He beckoned the Grandys over, while McGonagall hung back, not having entered. "Take it," he told Rieta. Her eyes widened warily, and he shook his head. "It's fine to touch now, but you must do so first because it has to be someone with magic."

"Okay." Reita held out her hand, palm up, and he placed the key in it gently. She had a moment to notice his skin was cold and leathery before Onenail withdrew his hand. Suddenly, she felt a slice of agony all over her skin where they metal lay, but it was gone as soon as it come. She gasped, and clenched her fist.

"Give it to your sister, Miss Grandy," he ordered. Rieta hesitated.

"Will it… do that to her?"

The goblin nodded. "It has to be sure of her blood. But it will pass as quickly as it did for you."

Rieta sighed, and gave Bella the key.

"Ahh!" The nine-year-old almost dropped it before the pain passed, and quickly handed it on to her father, who took it apprehensively. He bit his lip when the pain flared, but did not cry out. Then the key was handed back to Onenail, who nodded in satisfaction.

"It is done," he declared. He snapped his fingers and an envelope saying Vault 616 on it appeared, into which he slid the golden key. He handed it to Rieta, and when she took it she noticed a fading, key-shaped graze on her palm, that disappeared as she watched.

"Hold on," Mr. Grandy interrupted. "Shouldn't I take it? I am the adult, after all."

Onenail shook his head. "It must be carried by one of magical blood, at least until one purchase has been made using the gold from the vault it unlocks" he said. "Now." He snapped his fingers yet again, and the tray of Galleons and Knuts and Sickles appeared, which had disappeared unnoticed.

The goblin emptied it all onto the floor, and suddenly it was arranged in neat stacks of silver, bronze and gold. Next to the piles three drawstring bags were conjured up. He handed one to each of the Grandys, who filled them with money, and Rieta pocketed hers along with the envelope that now contained her vault key. Seeing this, Onenail pointed at it. "Do not lose that," he instructed. She nodded fervently.

The goblin looked around at them. "At any point in time, you may come here to add to or take from this vault. The key will be passed down to any with your blood, or adopted, so long as they are part of your family, for this is now your family vault. Understood?"

Nods all around, the Onenail ushered them out to where McGonagall was waiting, and closed the vault door. "It automatically locks," he informed them. Then, they went back to the cart.

"Get ready!" Rieta laughed. And another crazy ride commenced.

 _Part 3: A creepy man, crazy woman and closed-off boy_

 _'"Get ready!" Rieta laughed. And another crazy ride commenced.'_

* * *

July 23rd, 1971, 12:30

After leaving Gringotts, the family's day was a whirlwind of strange shops and buys. Along with her standard set of books for first year, Rieta also bought some extra books for background reading about the wizarding world, including Famous Wizards and their Deeds, Wizarding Households in the mid-1900s and even Wizard Studies for Dumb Muggles — as opposed to Muggle Studies for Dumb Wizards, that is.

She bought Wizarding Families, Pureblood and Mixed as well. And of course, Hogwarts, a History, eager to learn more about her amazing-sounding new school. Then McGonagall pointed her towards a book called Magical Racism Towards Non-Magical Folk — Both Sides of the Story, telling her that due to her blood status as a muggle-born and not a wizard-born, or a pure-blood, she needed to understand this when her advice was questioned. She also was recommended to buy a book called Wandlore, as most wizards knew about this growing up. So Rieta bought those, too.

Everything they got fit in Rieta's new pewter cauldron, which they had purchased first thing, and McGonagall put what she called a feather-light charm on it so they could carry it.

When they passed Quality Quidditch Supplies, and saw the newest broom model proudly displayed in the window (Comet Two Twenty), Rieta asked what this 'Quidditch' was. McGonagall explained the basics to her, about being on broomsticks and about Chasers and Keepers and Seekers and Beaters and about Quaffles and Bludgers and Snitches and about scoring and catching the Snitch and the seven hundred different ways to commit a foul.

Rieta though it all fascinating, and promptly bought a book called Quidditch Through the Ages. It was the newest edition, featuring information up until 1970. Apparently, one was released every ten years.

To her disappointment, however, she was not allowed to buy a broom, as McGonagall reminded her first years were strictly prohibited from bringing one to Hogwarts, but cheered her up by reminding her that there was always second year, when she might even get onto the house team.

Rieta got four sets of robes, shirts and ties — three for everyday wear and one for formal occasions. Madam Malkin, owner of Madam Malkin's Robe shop, was a squat, kindly, middle-aged lady who bustled around measuring and adjusting and tapping things with her wand until she declared she had the perfect set for her, saying it would grow with her over the year, but to make sure and come here next year to get a new set, and every year after that, too.

The robes and ties she bought were all plain black, and the shirts plain white. But Rieta spotted sample robes where the threading was differently coloured, with either green, blue, red or yellow, and the rim of the collar on the white shirts also had those colours.

When she asked about this, McGonagall told her that first years had not been sorted yet, so their robes and shirts had to be plain. Next year she could get colour-coded uniforms. Immediately after she got placed in a house, however, her ties would change colour and she would receive a badge with her house's crest on it.

That brought them to the topic of houses, and McGonagall explained to the curious Rieta and Bella about Gryffindor, Slytherin, Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw. She told them how each house had its own primary and secondary colours, and its signature animal, and these components were what made up the crests.

Ravenclaw: primary colour — blue, secondary colour — bronze, with its animal being a raven. Hufflepuff: primary colour — yellow, secondary colour — black, with its animal being a badger. Slytherin: primary colour — green, secondary colour — silver, with its animal being the snake. Gryffindor: primary colour — red, secondary colour — gold, with its animal being the lion.

The professor told them about her being the head of Gryffindor. She told them about the main traits that each house's members had to possess to get there; Hufflepuff: loyalty; Gryffindor: bravery; Ravenclaw: intelligence; and Slytherin: ambition.

After hearing this, Bella instantly surmised, completely confidently, that Harrietta would be in Slytherin.

"And why is that, Belladonna?" asked McGonagall, hiding the fact that she was scared of yet desperate to hear the answer.

"'Cause she's super ambitious!" Bella declared, throwing her arms out dramatically and accidentally whacking a passerby in the face.

After apologising profusely to the poor witch, McGonagall spoke once again to Bella, as Rieta blushed at this open revealing of her dream. "Everyone has ambitions, why should this define Harrietta? There is more to Slytherin than ambition."

"And what would those be professor?" Bella raised an eyebrow. "You haven't exactly told us any more than that."

"Well, there's cunning, subtlety, self-preservation, determination, and traditionalism, to name a few."

Rieta shrugged. "I've got those."

Mcgonagall pursed her lips. She didn't want to believe that this nice young lady would end up in Slytherin, although she supposed Belladonna knew her own sister better that she did. But it was not either of their decisions to make; the Sorting Hat would choose.

An hour and a half after leaving Gringotts, Mr. Grandy noticed something. "Look, Rieta," he said, nudging her. "There's only one thing left on your list." He pointed. "A wand!"

"Ah yes," murmured McGonagall, overhearing. Then louder, to the rest of the group, "This way to get Harrietta her wand!"

McGonagall led the way back down Diagon Alley to a shop near the entrance. It was rather old and shabby looking, and the building itself was tall and narrow. The only thing in the window of this shop was an ancient-looking wand on a faded purple cushion. In elegant curling script above the door were the words: Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

"Since 382 B.C.? Is the owner really that old?" asked Rieta.

"It is a family business, Ms. Grandy. The current Mr. Ollivander is fifty." McGonagall gestured towards the shop. "Granted, it may not look like much, but this place produces the best wands in all of Europe, as proven by those who buy them. Go on." She gave the eleven-year-old a little nudge in the direction of the door. "We'll be waiting right outside."

"You mean I have to go in by myself?"

"I will come in to get you if you are in for too long. Admittedly, Mr. Ollivander can get a little… overexcited."

Mr. Grandy interrupted. "I don't like the idea of Rieta going into that place all by herself. Are you sure it's safe?"

"Perfectly sure. Although he may… I believe the phrase often used to describe this is 'creep out' Harrietta here, Garrick Ollivander would never hurt a fly."

Mr. Grandy stepped back, albeit reluctantly. Rieta swallowed her nerves, walked up to the door, pushed it open and slipped in.

There was no one inside. The interior of the shop had two main components: a counter in the corner with a bell and a measuring tape on it, and, stretching back and up as far as Rieta could see, stacks and stacks upon stacks and stacks of long, rectangular, blue-grey boxes.

Rieta walked cautiously towards the counter and pressed down on the bell. A sharp ding! Cut through the silence of the shop, and a second later an old man with flyaway white hair and round silver eyes was in front of her.

"Good afternoon," he said in a soft, quiet voice.

"Um… good afternoon, Mr. Ollivander?" Rieta stuttered.

"That's right. And you are?" Ollivander moved closer, his eyes unblinking.

"Oh, Grandy. Harrietta Grandy."

"And I suppose you are here for your wand?" Ollivander asked rhetorically. "Now, which is your wand arm?"

"Um… my dominant arm? That would be my left one." Rieta stuck out her left hand.

"Yes, yes, that will do. " He walked towards her, around the counter. As he went he took the tape measure, and when he reached her he unrolled it and measured Rieta from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and 'round her head. He then let go of the device, which continued measuring all different aspects of Rieta's body on its own.

He started walking away, talking as he went. "There are four components in a wand: the type of wood, the core, which is always a strong magical substance like unicorn hair or dragon heartstring, the length, and the flexibility. All four make up a wand. These aspects reflect on the wizard's personality, and often their magical forte. Professor McGonagall's wand, for example, is incredible for Transfiguration, which she also is incredible at. She teaches it at Hogwarts in fact. Did you know that?" Without waiting for an answer, Ollivander went on. "No two wands are the same, and your wand will always produce better results for you than for another wizard. If you disarm or defeat someone, you can use their wand quite well, better than if you are given it. The closer their wand is to yours, the easier it will be. Your wand is, in essence, you. You do not choose the wand. The wand chooses the wizard." Despite how far away from her he was going, RIeta could still hear Ollivander loud and clear. "Now, let's see which wand will choose you…"

Ollivander picked up a box and turned back to see that the tape measure he had let go of was still measuring. "That will be enough," he said, and it fell to the ground in front of Rieta. He beckoned her, and she came over. Opening the box, Ollivander pulled out a long, dark wand. "Oak, ten inches, sturdy, with a dragon heartstring core." He placed it in her left hand.

"What do I do now?" Rieta asked, unsure.

"Give it a wave!"

Rieta did so, and suddenly a box behind Ollivander broke in half and was revealed to be empty. She hardly had time to process this before the oak wand was snatched out of her hand and replaced by a new one.

"Try this," Ollivander told her. "Poplar, eight and a half inches, slightly flexible, with a coral core."

Waving it, a tremor ran through Rieta's body, and she shuddered, dropping the wand. Ollivander shook his head. "No, no, no. How about… Ah. Maple, twelve inches, flexible, with a unicorn tail hair core."

Again it was snatched out of Rieta's hand.

This happened about five more times — willow wood, vine wood, reed, beech, holly. Dragon heartstring, kelpie mane, phoenix feather, thunderbird tail feather. Seven and a half inches, eleven inches, ten inches. Bendy, stout.

Until, finally, Ollivander handed her a very flexible, ten and a half inch, silver lime wood wand with a unicorn tail hair core. When Rieta waved this one, a soft glow emitted from the end, pulsating and glowing, until it slowly faded out. Her hair, which was still out so it was hanging down at her hips, flared out around her shoulders. Exhilarating power flowed through her, and she grinned.

"Yes, yes, yes!" cried Ollivander, pulling the wand out of Rieta's grasp and hurrying to his counter with her trailing behind. "This one, this is it." He placed it on the countertop and put it into the box it had come from, then wrapped it up with crinkly brown paper. "Silver lime… that's rare. Eight Galleons, six Sickles." Rieta handed him the money, and he handed her the wand in return, saying, "You may want to find out about your wand. Unicorn hair, silver lime. Loyalty, very much leaning on mind over matter —"

"But I don't put mind over matter!" disagreed Rieta. "I know I don't!"

"Perhaps you don't know yourself as well as you think." And with those words, he ushered her to the door. "Great doing business with you, and a very interesting wand you've got there!"

Back outside, Mr. Grandy immediately asked how it went, to which Rieta replied positively.

"Can we see your wand, Rieta?" Bella asked. Her big sister nodded and ripped off the paper, the opened the box and showed them all. It was a pale silver, well, as silver as wood could get, and about the length of three of her fists.

When McGonagall looked, her eyebrows rose to her hairline. "Is that silver lime?" she queried.

Rieta nodded. "Silver lime, ten and a half inches, very flexible, unicorn tail hair core," she informed the professor.

"Silver lime. Interesting. You really need to read that wandlore book you bought."

"What's your wand, professor?"

"Fir wood, nine and a half inches, stiff, with a dragon heartstring core."

"Incredible for Transfiguration?"

The professor smiled. "Did Ollivander tell you about me teaching it at Hogwarts?"

"Yes. What is Transfiguration?"

"A branch of magic — the name is self-explanatory. I'll be teaching you it at Hogwarts."

"Cool!"

* * *

Soon they were back in the Leaky Cauldron with all their purchases, preparing to leave. Rieta was talking with Tom, who had taken a break on a seat next to the green fire while his assistant ran the tavern for a while. Rieta had pulled up a chair beside him and was telling him all about her experience in Diagon Alley. In return, he told her all about what the wizarding world was like. He also explained why the fire was green — his fireplace was a main Floo Powder stop. And then he explained about Floo Powder. He told her what it had been like growing up in a wizarding family, and explained some concepts she had heard and had questions about.

Then, out of the blue, a boy came tumbling from the fireplace and crashed into Rieta, knocking her and her chair over. Quickly, she tucked up and rolled when she hit the ground, smoothly getting to her feet just in front of the crash zone. She turned to see the boy standing up and staring at her. Tom, who had been getting up, sat back down again, relieved.

He grinned apologetically. "Sorry about that. My brother pushed me off my feet just before I went at the other end. I was going to offer to help you up, but I can see you don't need that." He stuck out his hand. "Sirius Orion, at your service. Last names don't matter."

He looked her age, so eleven, and was wearing heavy black robes with silver stitching. On his chest was a black, green and silver crest saying Toujours Pur. Rieta filed this information away for future research as it was the only clue she had to his surname, as he clearly wasn't telling her. His hair was black, shoulder length and slightly more curly than her own.

Seeing her hesitation, Sirius Orion's hand drooped. "Come on, I am sorry for sending you sprawling."

Rieta arched and eyebrow, but gingerely took his hand and shook it. "Forgiven, and I'm Harrietta Grandy. I must ask, though, are all wizarding methods as unrefined as the... Floo, was it?"

Sirius, who was now grinning shrugged. "Muggleborn? Well, most take a bit of practice but are eventually smooth. But some can have mishaps, like with now."

Suddenly out of the fire stepped a tall, composed lady who looked a lot like Sirius, except not nearly as, well, nice. Rieta instantly deduced this was his mother.

Her eyes flickered immediately to her son, and then to his hand, still clasping Rieta's, and then to Rieta herself, and then to her clothes. Her white face became even whiter. "SIRIUS ORION BLACK!" she screamed. "What have I told you about consorting with mudbloods?!"

The tavern went quiet, all conversation dying away into a thick silence (the only person who had noticed Sirius before this had been Tom, incredibly) and every head turned to stare at the three. Sirius's expression went from happy to scowling furiously in an instant, then it went blank. He stepped away from Rieta and fell in with his mother, who was staring contemptuously at the young girl.

Tom stood up for real this time. "Madam, I must ask you to take your foul language away from this tavern," he said, respectfully but with an underlayer of anger.

The woman held Tom's gaze for a moment, then snapped,"Fine." The woman spun around. "Come, Sirius," she ordered, and he walked behind her as she left for the brick wall which was the entrance to Diagon Alley, muttering about "blood traitors."

Once the duo had exited, talking in the room returned, but it was more subdued than before. From behind her, Rieta, was slightly frozen, heard a soft voice say, "Come, Ms. Grandy. We're leaving." She turned to McGonagall, who had the newspaper Portkey out again. The professor spread it out on the table and one by one she and the Grandys placed hands on it. "Ten seconds," McGonagall stated.

Rieta turned and waved goodbye to Tom, who raised his hand in return and smiled, a bit sadly. Then there was a sharp tug at her navel and her world spun out of control before she was dumped on the floor of her own sitting room, back at home once again.

 **A/N: So as you can see, there's been a lot of layout change. Not so much with the content, but can you get where I'm heading? Also, the next chapter is going to skip ahead about twenty-six years... but that's a secret, so shhhh!**

 **Anyway, I'm going to be indisposed for a few weeks, but I'll do my best to write during that time and update ASAP when I'm back. Thanks for putting up with probably the worst consistent updater on FanFiction . net!**

 **As always, review!**

 **Bye!**


	2. 1995 Interlude: The Missing Marauder

**A/N: I'm back! It's only taken a million years.**

 **As you can see, this has jumped twenty-two years forward, and we will froggy hop back next chapter, don't worry. But in the revamping process, I had quite an idea struck me.**

 **Well, you'll see.**

 **Enjoy!**

1995 Chapter 1: The Missing Marauder

 _Part 1: A lost lover_

August 20th, 1995, 20:15*

" **You all right, Potter?"**

Harry James Potter, fifteen years old, looked up as Mad-Eye Moody spoke.

"I'm fine," he lied.

 _ **Excerpt from HP &OotP**_

 **Moody took a swig from his hip flask, his electric blue eye staring sideways at Harry. "Come here, I've got something that might interest you," he said.**

 **From an inner pocket of his robes Moody pulled a very tattered old Wizarding photograph. "Original Order of the Phoenix," growled Moody. "Found it last night when I was looking for my spare Invisibility Cloak, seeing as Podmore hasn't had the manners to return my best one. . . . Thought people might like to see it."**

 **Harry took the photograph. A small crowd of people, some waving at him, others lifting their glasses, looked back up at him.**

" **There's me," said Moody unnecessarily, pointing at himself. The Moody in the picture was unmistakable, though his hair was slightly less gray and his nose was intact. "And there's Dumbledore beside me, Dedalus Diggle on the other side . . . That's Marlene McKinnon, she was killed two weeks after this was taken, they got her whole family. That's Frank and Alice Longbottom —"**

 **Harry's stomach, already uncomfortable, clenched as he looked at Alice Longbottom; he knew her round, friendly face very well, even though he had never met her, because she was the image of her son, Neville.**

" **Poor devils," growled Moody. "Better dead than what happened to them . . . and that's Emmeline Vance, you've met her, and that there's Lupin, obviously . . . Benjy Fenwick, he copped it too, we only ever found bits of him . . . shift aside there," he added, poking the picture, and the little photographic people edged sideways, so that those who were partially obscured could move to the front.**

" **That's Edgar Bones . . . brother of Amelia Bones, they got him and his family too, he was a great wizard . . . Sturgis Podmore, blimey, he looks young . . . Caradoc Dearborn, vanished six months after this, we never found his body . . . Hagrid, of course, looks exactly the same as ever . . . Elphias Doge, you've met him, I'd forgotten he used to wear that stupid hat . . . Gideon Prewett, it took five Death Eaters to kill him and his brother Fabian, they fought like heroes . . . budge along, budge along . . ."**

 **The little people in the photograph jostled among themselves, and those hidden right at the back appeared at the forefront of the picture. "That's Dumbledore's brother, Aberforth, only time I ever met him, strange bloke . . . That's Dorcas Meadowes, Voldemort killed her personally . . . Sirius, when he still had short hair . . . and . . . there you go, thought that would interest you!" Harry's heart turned over. His mother and father were beaming up at him, sitting on either side of a small, watery-eyed man Harry recognized at once as Wormtail: He was the one who had betrayed their whereabouts to Voldemort and so helped bring about their deaths.**

 _ **Excerpt**_ _**ends**_

There was one person left unnamed in the photograph; a brunette woman with her hair in long braids, standing smiling and waving with an arm around Sirius.

Harry pointed to her, and asked Moody, "Who's that?"

"Well, that's Harrietta Grandy of course. Suppose you know all about her already, though."

Harry frowned in confusion. "I've never heard of her, actually."

This seemed to surprise Moody. "What?" He turned to him, blue eye going halo. "But Sirius and Remus, haven't they?"

"No…" Harry felt a suspicion worming its way through his gut, but he needed proof. "Who was she?"

"Who — but —" Harry had truly thought it was impossible for Moody to ever get this flustered. "But didn't Sirius ever tell you about the fifth person in his little gang of marauders? Didn't he ever tell you about his _fiance_?"

Harry's eyes widened. Now he knew for sure. " _Quickpaw…_ " he whispered. Then out loud: "I need to talk to Sirius. Now."

* * *

August 20th, 1995, 20:25

Harry raced up the stairs from his room, Moody's photograph, clutched in one hand and the blank Marauder's Map in the other. He slammed Sirius's door open and burst inside with a cry of "Sirius?!"

The older man looked up from where he had been brushing down Buckbeak. "Yes, Harry?"

Harry brandished the items at him. "Why didn't you tell me about Quickpaw, or Harrietta or whoever she is?"

Sirius's eyes widened, and his face paled rapidly. He snatched the photo from Harry and stared at it in shock. "I thought all of these had been destroyed," he murmured, tracing his fingers of the shiny black-and-white surface.

"That doesn't matter!" Harry snapped. He stuck out a finger and pointed at the previously unknown woman in the photo, who had stopped waving and was just smirking softly. "Who. Is. She?!"

Before Sirius could reply, the door slammed open again and Lupin entered cautiously. Buckbeak snapped his beak irritatedly at the noise and Harry gritted his teeth in annoyance.

"I heard yelling. What's going on?" the werewolf asked cautiously.

Sirius looked up at his friend and sighed. "Remus… Quickpaw."

"Oh." No more words were necessary. Remus pushed the door closed and walked towards the duo. "Harry — we can explain."

Harry scowled and plopped down onto the floor cross legged, leaning against the kneeling Buckbeak. "Then do it."

The two men joined him on the floor. "Harry," Remus began tentatively. "You have to understand that Ri—Harrietta is a very sore topic for us. More so than Pettigrew, even."

Harry's brow furrowed. "Why is that?" he asked, momentarily forgetting to sound venomous.

Sirius continued the story. "Me and Harrietta were to be married in December, which would have been, as you recall, two or so months after your parents' deaths. I was in Azkaban by that time, of course, but Harrietta…"

Harry pressed forward. "What happened."

When Sirius seemed unable to continue, Remus explained. "She was there with your parents that night, Harry. And… as you know, your parents' bodies were there. As was her's."

* * *

August 21st, 1995, 11:00

It was the next day, and the whole Weasley family along with Harry and Hermione were about to go to Diagon Alley to pick up the new supplies. Remus and Sirius had spent a long time talking with harry, explaining Harrietta's story, but not in much detail.

Just before Harry left, Sirius drew him aside and he presented Harry with a small golden key. "When you go to Gringotts, give this to the goblins and arrange for them to send you a few vials every month, okay?"

"What is this, Sirus? And what do you mean by 'vials'?" asked Harry, confused.

"Shh, ask the goblins for a meeting and they'll explain," Sirius whispered hurriedly, before closing Harry's fist around the keys and pushing him towards the door with and urgent, "don't you lose that!"

 _Part 2: A changed man_

' _When Sirius seemed unable to continue, Remus explained. "She was there with your parents that night, Harry. And… as you know, your parents' bodies were there. As was her's."_

 _Just before Harry left, Sirius drew him aside and he presented Harry with a small golden key. "When you go to Gringotts, give this to the goblins and arrange for them to send you a few vials every month, okay?"'_

* * *

September 5th, 1995, 14:20

Harry pulled his head out of the pensieve he had received from the Grandy account manager Onenail and sat down heavily on his bed in the Gryffindor fifth year boys' dorm.

The key had turned out to be to Harrietta's vault, which had not been opened since her death and Sirius's imprisonment. Sirius had regained a copy of it when he gone to Gringotts to buy Harry's Firebolt. Apparently Harrietta had stored all of her memories in the vault as a kind of 'diary', to record the happenings of her life and also to regain old memories. They started when she had first learned of the magical world and ended with the day before her death.

As Sirius had told him, he had organised to receive five vials week from the goblins, and viewing them in a pensieve that had also been in the vault. The goblins told him that there were ten years' worth of memory in the vault, and about twenty memories for each year, with the amount increasing as the years went on.

Harry had had his first delivery, a week ago, and had finished the first memory right away; the other he would watch in a day or so. He hadn't told Ron or Hermione about them yet, but had been dropping hints (for example, the last time he'd used the Map, he'd read out the inscription on the front after activating it: all _five_ names. He'd seen Hermione brow furrow for a moment, but she hadn't mentioned it. Harry doubted Ron had noticed anything).

There was something rather sobering about watching the memories of a dead person, and it had subdued him — in sadness and deep thought — a lot during school. The idea of it was sobering to, and his thoughts on the matter had made him rather less prone to anger over the treatment he was receiving from most of the school these days — namely, that he was and ether mad as a hatter and dangerous, or was an attention-seeking liar and plotter.

Hermione had commented on his strange lack of angry responses to the accusations, and Ron had agreed it was odd, but they had both shrugged it off as a positive improvement. To tell the truth, Sirius and Remus's revelations were probably the only things that had preventing him from blowing up and people like Seamus Finnigan and Professor Dolores Umbridge, the new, Ministry assigned DADA instructor (the latter of whom would probably have jumped at the chance to give him detention, if her attempts to rile him up were any indication — she had become very annoyed when they failed. Harry was quite glad he had avoided that one).

Instead, he found himself — and to be honest this was quite novel — thinking through his responses and coming up with as neutral as one as he could.

 _It had been the fifth year Gryffindor's first DADA lesson of the year, and upon seeing the planned course, there had been objections raised: namely, why were they not going to be actually practicing any spells._

" _ **As long as you have studied the theory hard enough, there is no reason why you should not be able to perform the spells under carefully controlled examination conditions,"**_ _said Professor Umbridge dismissively in response to these objections, her sickly sweet and childish voice condescending._

" _ **Without ever practicing them before?"**_ _Parvati Patil had asked incredulously._ " _ **Are you telling us that the first time we'll get to do the spells will be during our exam?"**_

" _ **I repeat, as long as you have studied the theory hard enough —"**_

" _ **And what good's theory going to be in the real world?"**_ _Harry had said loudly, his hand in the air again._

 _ **Professor Umbridge looked up. "This is school, Mr. Potter, not the real world," she said softly.**_

" _ **So we're not supposed to be prepared for what's waiting out there?"**_

" _ **There is nothing waiting out there, Mr. Potter."**_

" _ **Oh yeah?" said Harry. His temper, which seemed to have been bubbling just beneath the surface all day, was reaching boiling point.**_

" _ **Who do you imagine wants to attack children like yourselves?" inquired Professor Umbridge in a horribly honeyed voice.**_

 _Harry opened his mouth to reply the obvious, reckless and typical response that was expected of Harry Potter: Lord Voldemort. But then he saw something that drew him short: the expression on Umbridge's face was almost… exited. Evilly excited and… satisfied?_

She orchestrated this _, he had realised in horror._ She _wants_ me to say Voldemort. Because if I do… I just prove her right.

 _He had quickly covered his indecision by raising his hand to his chin and stroke in a pretense of mock thought, while his mind was racing for a way to answer this that would end the whole situation calmly._

 _And then he had it. He remembered a passing comment Remus had made when Harry had described his trial:_ "Nasty woman, that Dolores Umbridge. Made all sorts of trouble for me while I was at Hogwarts. She's passed a bunch of restrictive laws on werewolves. Strong belief that they're some kind of destructive monster _all_ month. Horrible prejudice."

" _Let's see… maybe werewolves? Angry centaurs? Giants?" At her shocked and angry look, Harry had felt his own satisfaction. He turned to the class, in time to see a relieved look replace a worried one on Hermione face. His classmates were watching open mouthed._

" _People, we live right on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Who knows what's in there? I know the rumours of werewolves, and I can personally vouch the existence of centaurs — I saw some back in first year in a detention." (_ Funny that _, he realised for the first time,_ our punishment for being out of bed after hours in a forbidden area was going out of bed after hours in a forbidden area _) "I even read somewhere" — (_ More like experienced it _) — "that it is home to acromantula: gigantic, man eating spiders! And think about what might be out in the whole wide wizarding world!" He had shuddered for effect and turned back to the professor, spreading his hands out wide and concluding: "Don't you think we need to defend ourselves against all that?"_

 _Umbridge had looked flustered. "Yes, I suppose you're right, Mr. Potter. I will go now… talk to the Minister about perhaps implementing some changes… in the meantime, everyone, please read chapter one of your Wilbert Slinkhard books; good grounding at least, if we do end up doing practical." And she had gathered up her papers and left the classroom._

 _And although Hermione had rolled her eyes as she read the book for a second time, and his classmates had kept shooting him weird looks, although Umbridge's chat with the Minister had 'inconclusive results', as she put it, and would have to be looked more into, Harry felt pretty happy with the way he had handled that._

But deep down, Harry knew it was not just the sobriety of watching a dead person's life that had changed him. He knew that a part of it was that he thought he himself had failed; failed to notice the holes regarding Quickpaw in Moony and Padfoot's story, failed to know such a big thing about the life of one of the the people he regarded as being his family.

And looking back, Harry realised all of the other things he had missed; the little details that could have saved Cedric's life: if he had reacted sooner in the graveyard. Or the whole fiasco with Quirrell: if he hadn't been so caught up in his hatred of Snape he wouldn't have been so caught off-guard by the revelation of the true villain.

And of course if he had just thought before simply ranting at the Minister at the end of both his third and fourth years, he could have shown pensieve memories of Voldemort's resurrection, and asked the Minister if he wouldn't let Madame Pomfrey check to see if they actually were Confounded. And much, much more.

Ever since Harry had faced of Voldemort in the graveyard, he had had a heavy burden on his shoulders, one that was telling him that it was his duty to end the Dark Lord once and for all. But how was he to do that is he was barely competent in his own day-to-day life?

He knew he couldn't do it alone. And as he resurfaced from the memory of Harrietta's first visit to Diagon Alley, and saw how her family functioned a whole, he knew he needed that. And two of the only people who could possibly be a family were right here with him at Hogwarts.

It was time for an explanation.

 _Part 3: An explanation, of sorts_

' _And two of the only people who could possibly be a family were right here with him at Hogwarts._ _It was time for an explanation.'_

* * *

September 5th, 1995, 16:00

"Harry, where are we going?"

"Kitchens."

"Why, mate?"

"I need to talk to you two in private. Ah, here we are."

They had reached the painting of the fruit bowl, and Harry reached up and tickled the pear, grabbed the materialising door handle and swung it open, revealing the Hogwarts kitchen beyond.

As soon as they were inside the three students were swarmed by house elves, the door swinging shut behind them. Dobby pushed to the front and

"Mister Harry Potter sir! And Mister Wheezy and Miss Grangy! Can Dobby be getting anything for yours sirs and madam?"

"Actually, we just want to have somewhere to talk for a bit in private," Harry declined.

Dobby and another, older-looking elf exchanged a glance. "Us elves are not allowed to helps the students break rules, Mister Harry Potter," the latter began. "The students are only allowed to come in the kitchens to eat, sir."

"But," Dobby added, "If yous were to eat _and_ talk down here, then us elves wouldn't be breaking any rules…"

Harry grinned. "Thanks, Dobby. I'll take a treacle tart and some apples, please?"

"Yeah, can I have some chocolate pudding and chicken?" Ron agreed.

The elves turned to Hermione. She opened her mouth with an angry look on her face, probably about to start ranting about elven rights or having dessert at lunchtime or both, but Harry clapped a hand over her mouth and answered for her.

"She'll have some Yorkshire puddings and grapes, please."

Hermione's face grew purple but both boys whispered frantically _not now_ , with Ron adding to let Harry tell his special news and _then_ yell at him, which got her to calm down a bit.

* * *

September 5th, 1995, 16:15

In the end, Hermione didn't yell at Harry. She was crying too much (Harry didn't know how exactly to deal with this).

Ron had a deeply disturbed look on his face and was staring blankly at the Marauder's Map clutched in his hand. He eventually looked.

"Mate, that's… I'm really sorry, Harry."

Hermione wiped her eyes. "Yeah, me too. But why didn't you tell us this earlier?"

Harry shrugged uncomfortably. "It never felt like the right time."

His eyes lit up. "Oh! I've got one more thing to show you." Out of his pocket he pulled a vial of silvery liquid and a shrunk silver bowl.

"Have either you ever been in a pensieve?"

* * *

September 5th, 1995, 16:45

"And you're gonna watch _ten years worth_ of those? Blimey, Harry, you'll barely be doing anything else."

"That was quite something, Harry. Gringotts is sending them weekly?"

"Yeah, five a week for fifty weeks."

"That's quite an undertaking. Why are you so sure you want to do this?"

Harry averted his eyes. "She's my godmother, my _namesake_. And… if she was one of the Marauders, she'd have a lot of memories with my parents, right?"

Ron and Hermione's eyes widened in understanding. The latter reached over and laid a hand on his back. "Don't worry, Harry. We're with you, you know that, right?"

Ron nodded firmly, looking his best mate in the eye. "Always."

Harry smiled.

* * *

 ***: _AU, people. And in this AU, the Hogwarts staff isn't totally inept. AKA, they don't send booklists on the last day of summer._**

* * *

 **A/N: Yay! Complete!  
**

 **So obviously there are a lot of time jumps in this (it did grow tiresome writing out so many dates repeatedly)**

 **Um, not much to say here, other than I'll update within the next three months, promise. Also, I'm starting a fic-recommendation every update on all my stories. This week's is _The Pureblood Pretense,_ by murkybluematter.**


	3. 1971 Chapter 3: Hogwarts

**A/N: Review replies:**

 **Cai-Leigh Anne: I'm sorry you're disappointed, but trust me, this story is _not_ laid out yet. I think you might be more than a bit surprised with it in the end!**

 **Olivia0707: Thanks so much! Hope you like this too.**

 **Fic Recommendation: _Birth of a Phoenix_ by phoenix catcher. Very sad but worth the read.**

 **Really sorry this took two months in the coming. I had most of it written out but I've been really busy with school restarting and I only just got around to posting.**

 **Enjoy!**

1971 Chapter 2: Hogwarts

 _Part 1: Leavetaking_

' _Then there was a sharp tug at her navel and her world spun out of control before she was dumped on the floor of her own sitting room, back at home once again.'_

* * *

August 31, 1971, 9:45pm

Over the past month or so, Harrietta had read as many of her books that she bought at Diagon Alley as she could. The first thing she had done was go to her book _Wandlore_ and find out what Mr. Ollivander and Professor McGonagall had found so interesting about her new wand being silver lime. The passage in the book about silver lime wood had said this: _Silver lime is an incredibly unusual and attractive wood that works best for Seers and those skilled at Legilimency._

This had intrigued Rieta, and she immediately looked up Seers in _Wizard Studies for Dumb Muggles_. It had told her that Seer were wizards or witches who had the ability to look into the future and inadvertently make prophecies.

She thought that the fact a silver lime wand had chosen her could mean that she might be a Seer, or at least have some Divination (the branch of magic that dealt with looking into the future) prowess. She also found the book about wandlore interesting in general.

Then she had looked for the term 'mudblood', which a rude witch had used to describe her at the Leaky Cauldron. She found it was mentioned in _A History of Magic_ but went into more detail in _Magical Racism Towards Non-Magical Folk — Both Sides of the Story_ , where it informed her that it was a derogatory term that was used to describe wizards and witches of non-magical descent.

At first Rieta had wondered how Mrs. Black (for that was the woman's name) had known she was a muggle-born, but then remembered the way the older woman's eyes had flicked to her clothes, and realised that they had been Muggle clothes and not robes as magical folk traditionally wore.

Rieta learnt about the prejudices some people had towards people who were not magical, which had been around since the days Muggles had hunted witches and wizards to burn them. _Well, I guess I'll have to look out for that kind of thing when I go to Hogwarts_ , she'd thought.

When she had looked up the Black family in her book _Wizarding Families_ , Rieta had found that it was one of about twelve different totally 'pure-blood' families, and well known for its hatred of anything non magical. But from the way Mrs. Black's, or Walburga Black's, son Sirius had acted when his mother had spoken like that, he was, well, what was usually called the black sheep (though in this case, the white sheep would be more appropriate) of his family.

Rieta had read about Hogwarts itself, in _Hogwarts, a History_. She thought it sounded amazing, the only drawback being a mention of house rivalry. The building itself was a castle with seven floors, one hundred and forty-two staircases and many secret passageways.

She learnt about the four founders and the reason behind house rivalry — a split between them. She learnt about the seven core subjects: Transfiguration, Charms, Potions, History of Magic, Defence Against the Dark Arts, Astronomy and Herbology. She learnt about first year flying lessons and how second years may try out for their house's team in Quidditch.

She learnt about the elective subjects third years could take (she thought Care of Magical Creatures looked very interesting and wished she had bought a book on it) and about Hogsmeade. She found out about Ordinary Wizarding Levels, or OWLs, in fifth year and Nastily Exhausting Wizarding Tests, or NEWTs, in seventh.

She discovered that in the magical world you came of age at seventeen and that the Trace was something placed on all underage wizards and witches that told the Ministry of Magic if they did magic at home, which they were not supposed to unless in life-threatening situations. However, muggle-borns were allowed to use magic for the first week of summer to prove that they had been learning in Hogwarts.

She learnt about the Ministry for Magic in _Wizard Studies_ , too. They had the strangest departments! Rieta found out that the current Minister for Magic was a woman named Millicent Bagnold. She read about the other schools for magic and the other countries in which the Ministry for Magic reigned.

And she studied, scared of how far behind everyone she would be because of her muggle-born status. In the time before she left, Rieta was rarely seen without a book in her hands, reading and practicing and memorising.

Rieta learnt about the Stature of Secrecy, the reason that before she had left, McGonagall had made all the Grandys swear not to tell anyone about the world of magic. The Hogwarts professor had also subscribed to the _Daily Prophet_ for them — the wizarding newspaper. Now they received that every morning as well.

Her family was every bit as excited as Rieta, Belladonna especially. She promised to write home every week and tell them what was happening, and vise versa. They had not bought an owl at Diagon Alley, but McGonagall told them that Rieta could use one of the school owls to carry the letter. She also explained to them about the Hogwarts Express and Platform 9 ¾ and how to get onto it, reminding them Rieta had to be on the train by eleven o'clock.

Now it was the night before September 1st, the day of her departure to Hogwarts, and Rieta couldn't sleep. She tossed and turned, suddenly scared to death at the idea of going to this new school in a world that was new to her.

 _What if I fail everything? What if they decide I'm not good enough? What if everyone hates me?_

She thought of Sirius Orion Black, and wondered if her counted as a new friend. But his mother would probably kill him if he did. Although Rieta reminded herself that she would not be the only muggle-born starting Hogwarts this year, as McGonagall had had to leave to go initiate some, it was hard not to feel alone.

Rieta sighed — it was clear she wasn't going to get to sleep tonight. She pushed back her covers and padded downstairs, then quietly went out through the back door and onto the lawn, which was illuminated by a half-full moon.

She started to run, then stretched her arms out in front of her and jumped, straightening her legs and sending her head towards the ground before pushing off with her hands, arms bending and unbending and flipped back onto her feet.

The young girl spent more than an hour outside, jumping and flipping and turning. Her world became her arms and hands out in front of her, the positioning of her legs, the slap-slap of the grassy ground beneath her feet. She made no sound apart from her heavy breathing.

Finally, Rieta lay exhausted on the soft dirt, her limbs splayed around her like a star with her long brown hair knotted and bunched up in a bun on top of her head. She stared up at the little stars winking at her from the night sky and wondered if those same stars could be seen from Hogwarts.

 _I'm going to be away from home for ten months of each year_ , Rieta realised. Of course, there was the winter and Easter holidays, but still…

She shook herself. This was going to be an incredible experience, and here she was moping!

Checking her watch, the face of which was glowing faintly in the dark, she found the time to be eleven. "Better head back in," she muttered to herself, using her elbows to climb to her knees and then pushing herself to her feet. Quietly she pulled open the door and slipped down the corridor, up the stairs and into her own bedroom. She undid her hair but did not bother changing out of her now-dirty clothes, instead crawling straight into bed.

Turning her head, Rieta saw her wand, silver in the faint light coming from the window. It seemed to be glowing slightly somehow. She reached out and picked it up, turning it over and over in her hands. " _Lumos_ ," she whispered, remembering one of the spells from her new spellbook _The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1_. To her surprise, it worked — the tip of her wand lit up, illuminating the area around her.

Rieta smiled, and waved the stick around a bit, making light sweep all over the room, then extinguished it with a whispered, " _Nox_." She placed it back on the bedstand and closed her eyes, tired now but feeling a bit better. Sleep overtook her.

She dreamed of a big castle with golden doors perched high on top of a mountain. She walked inside and there was Professor McGonagall. The older woman walked towards Rieta and tapped her on the head with her wand, and suddenly she was wearing long purple robes, and there was Walburga Black screaming her head off, but Rieta didn't really care, because all around them was other kids in purple robes, and then they were all carrying wands, the tips of which were lit up. And in Rieta's hand was her long silver lime wand, and it too made light, pulsing comfortingly under her hand.

* * *

September 1st, 1971, 8:00am

Rieta woke up feeling… not _happy_ , exactly, but not sad. Just good. She tied up her hair in a high ponytail that cascaded around her shoulders and wore a simple T-shirt and shorts.

The morning was spent in an excited flurry of getting ready to leave. Bella was insanely jealous of her older sister. "Oh, I hope I get to go to Hogwarts, too!" she said more than once to them all.

Sienna and Rollo didn't really understand what was happening, but they would loyally refer to Rieta as a 'magical fairy princess' (the idea of which Rollo was slightly disgusted by) whenever possible.

McGonagall had done what she called a 'secrecy spell' on the two, with Mr. and Mrs. Grandys' consent, of course, which prevented the twins from telling anyone who was not a part of the family about the magical world. The professor promised she would remove it as soon as they were old enough to understand the necessity of secrecy.

Riet had done most of her packing the previous evening, but there were still a few final things to be done, such as a small bag of Galleons and Sickles and her wand. By the time they were all ready, Rieta's trunk was full and would be overflowing, if not for Mrs. Grandy's incredible packing skills. The family left at ten-fifteen in their car, arriving at Kings Cross Station with ten minutes to spare.

"Now, how do we get onto this 'Platform 9 ¾' again, Garrick?" Mrs. Grandy asked her husband.

"Through the barrier between platforms nine and ten, Mum," sighed Rieta. "Remember?"

"Ah yes. Right, so, let's go." Rieta's mother walked forward, the rest of the family trailing after. She stopped in front of the barrier. "So, how do we do this? After all, it's only you who are magical, Rieta," she said uncertainly. She was holding Rollo in on hand and Sienna in the other.

"I have to bring you each through," she replied. "Mum, Dad, twins, Bella, shall we?" She grabbed ahold of her parents arms, but Bella refused.

"I'm magic too, aren't I?" she queried.

"Find out," Rieta shrugged, and pulled her parents and youngest siblings through the barrier to see…

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Rieta looked over her shoulder and saw a wrought-iron archway where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. They'd made it. And also at the wrought-iron gate was—

"Rieta! Mum! Dad!" Bella was running towards them, glowing with happiness. "I made it!"

Rieta grinned at her little sister. "That you did," she answered, then turned back to the spectacle in front of them.

Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every color wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks. The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats.

"Woah," whispered the eleven-year-old. She looked at her watch. "I have five minutes…"

"Goodbye, dear." Mrs. Grandy wrapped her in an embrace. "We'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too."

Then Mr. Grandy hugged her, too. "Have lots of fun, don't get in trouble, and write to us every week to tell us what's happening, okay?"

"Okay, Dad."

Rollo and Sienna each wrapped their arms around Rieta's waist.

"Miss you, Rieta," the young girl said.

"No forget us!" the boy added.

"I won't. I promise." She reached down and clung to them momentarily before disengaging.

Rieta turned and picked up her nine-year-old sister with a heave, who wrapped her arms around the former's neck. "Bye bye, Rieta," she said.

"Bye, Bella."

* * *

September 1st, 1971, 10:58

Rieta dragged her ridiculously heavy trunk down the train, looking for a compartment that wasn't completely full — groups of friends had flocked together and were leaving no empty seats.

She looked inside another one. There were only two boys in it, both of them looking out the window. She knocked on the door and slid it open so she could talk to them.

Both boys turned around. The first one had messy black hair and glasses. He was slight but looked well-fed. The second one also had black hair, and with a jolt Rieta recognised the boy from the Leaky Cauldron. She opened the door wider. From the boy's face, he had started to recognise her as well.

"Sirius Orion last-names-don't-matter?" she asked in astonishment. He grinned suddenly.

"You!" Sirius cried. "Your name…" He snapped his fingers. "Harrietta Olivia! You never told me your surname either."

"Grandy," Rieta relied. The boy with the glasses was looking back and forward between them. "Can I come in here?"

Sirius swept his hand out grandly. "Feel free." Rieta slipped inside, pulling her trunk behind her, and sat down opposite the boys just before the train gave a lurch, a whistle was blown and they started to move.

Once things had settled again, Glasses boy was still looking at her.

"You know Sirius?" he asked.

Rieta nodded, and Sirius said, "We bumped into each other… literally."

"The appropriate word is crashed," the young girl corrected. " _You_ crashed into _me_ ," she added, turning her nose up haughtily.

"Bloody hell, you look like my mum," said Sirius bemusedly. "Oh, about that that… look, I want to apologise on her behalf, since she would never do it herself."

"That's okay, it isn't your fault," replied Rieta.

"It's like you're both speaking in some secret code!" Glasses boy cried out suddenly in frustration. "Let me in!"

"Oh. Harrietta —" Sirius began.

"Call me Rieta," she interrupted.

"Right. Rieta, this is James, James Potter. No middle name. James, this is Harrietta Olivia… Grandy. Yes middle name." Sirius introduced the two to each other.

"Pleased to meet ya," offered James, extending a hand.

Rieta went to take the hand, then withdrew, noticing crumbs all over it. "Not so pleased to meet you. Have you even touched water since your breakfast?" she asked in disgust.

"'Course I have!" James answered indignantly while Sirius guffawed. "This is from my snack!" This explanation only caused Sirius to laugh all the more.

"How in the world are you so slight?" questioned Rieta, staring pointedly at James's stomach.

"Are you accusing me of overeating?"

Sirius, recovering and wiping tears of mirth from his eyes, shook his head. "No mate, she doesn't need to. You admitted it yourself."

"Hey!" James cried while Rieta smirked. Then the smirk dropped off her face when she realised something.

"I need help get my trunk up to the luggage rack. It's too heavy." She looked at the thing like it was the bane of her life. "The only reason I got it closed this morning was my mum."

"Give it here," said James. He picked the trunk up easily and pushed it onto the overhead rack. Then the boys started talking about Quidditch leagues, and Rieta didn't get it so she zoned them out.

 _Part 2: A cartload of prejudice_

' _...Rieta didn't get it so she zoned them out.'_

* * *

Suddenly the compartment door opened and a petite, redheaded girl came rushing in and sat next to the window, pressing her face against the glass and heaving with silent sobs that died down even as Rieta watched but left tear tracks down her face. She paid the boys no heed, so they paid her none. But Rieta sat down next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"What's happened?" she asked.

"Oh, nothing," the girl replied. "J-just a little family s-spat." Then she shook with a renewed sob and confessed in a rush. "M-my sister hates me because I'm m-magical. She sent a letter to the headmaster of H-hogwarts, Dumbledore, a-asking if she could come too, but he-he sent one back saying n-no, sorry. And me and my friend, we s-saw it. And she hates me because she knows we did, t-too."

"I'm so sorry," Rieta said helplessly, her heart constricting in sympathy.

"But you wouldn't know about that — I bet your whole family's magic." The girl's head bowed even more.

Rieta detected a hint of jealousy in her voice, and sighed. "Actually, I'm muggle-born. I suppose you are too?"

The girl looked up at her for the first time. Her eyes were a startling green as they met Rieta's dark blue ones. "You are? Yeah, I am. What's your name?"

"Harrietta. You?"

"I'm Lily. I —" She was cut off when the compartment door opened again. They all looked up to see a long-nosed boy with hair the colour and length of Sirius's, except straight, walk in. When he saw Lily, he rushed over, and Rieta quickly made room for him beside her. James and Sirius went disinterestedly back to their conversation.

"Who're you?" Rieta asked.

"Severus Snape," he said dismissively, then turned his attention back to Lily.

The redhead glanced at him and said in a constricted voice, "I don't want to talk to you."

"Why not?" the boy, Severus, asked.

"Tuney h-hates me. Because we saw that letter from Dumbledore." _Tuney… must be her sister_ , thought Rieta.

"So what?" asked Severus tactlessly. The duo seemed to have forgotten they had company.

Lily threw him a look of deep dislike. "So she's my sister!"

"She's only a—" He caught himself quickly. Rieta wondered what he was about to say, but Lily, too busy trying to wipe her eyes without being noticed, did not hear him. "But we're going!" he continued, unable to suppress the exhilaration in his voice. "This is it! We're off to Hogwarts!"

Lily nodded, mopping her eyes, but in spite of herself, she half smiled. Rieta was glad that they had made up, and to see Lily feeling a bit better.

"You'd better be in Slytherin," said Severus, clearly encouraged that she had brightened a little. Rieta's ears perked up at this. Slytherin was the house she and her sister had agreed she would be in, as its main trait was ambition, which Rieta had lots of. And it didn't sound like a half-bad house, either. Before she could voice this thought, however, James finally took some interest in the conversation going on beside him.

"Slytherin?" he questioned "Who wants to be in Slytherin? I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" James asked Sirius, who was beside him, smiling a little.

Sirius did not smile. "My whole family have been in Slytherin," he said. Of course, Rieta had known this from her book on wizarding families, but she was shocked at how unhappy he seemed about it.

"Blimey," said James. "And I thought you seemed all right!"

Sirius grinned now. "Maybe I'll break the tradition. Where are you heading, if you've got the choice?"

James lifted an invisible sword. "'Gryffindor, where dwell the brave at heart!' Like my dad."

Gryffindor: the house of bravery. Rieta felt her heart sinking into her shoes. Would these tow still be friends with her if she got into Slytherin? They sure seemed to hate that house.

Severus made a small, disparaging noise. James turned on him. "Got a problem with that?"

"No," said Snape, though his slight sneer said otherwise. "If you'd rather be brawny than brainy—"

"Where're you hoping to go, seeing as you're neither?" interjected Sirius, rather meanly in Rieta's opinion. The young girl and Lily had not yet been able to get a word in edgewise.

James roared with laughter at Sirius's comment. Lily sat up, rather flushed, and looked from James to Sirius in dislike. "Come on, Severus, let's find another compartment," she said, to Rieta's disappointment.

"Ooooo…" James and Sirius imitated her lofty voice, and James tried to trip Snape as he passed.

"See ya, Snivellus!" a Sirius called, as the compartment door slammed.

Rieta's thoughts on the duo of boys had rather changed during the course of the conversation — they had been rather mean to Severus just because of his opinion — but making up rude names when they didn't even know the boy? That was going a bit far.

James and Sirius seemed to be waiting for her to say something; they were looking at her expectantly. She tugged at her ponytail to tighten it and decided to come out and tell them what she had been thinking.

"Why were you so mean to Severus? He's never even met you before. And you drove Lily, a perfectly nice girl, out of your company. That's just rude!"

The boys stared at her. Then James frowned. "You're muggle-born, right?" Rieta nodded, and he continued. "Well, let me tell you something. Those two were Slytherin lovers, and in our world, Slytherin is the bad house. They're prejudice gits."

"Not all of them though. You can't have an entirely bad house. There has to be some good people."

"If there is, I'd love to meet them," put in Sirius. "But I haven't. The only Slytherins I've are horrid, and they're my own family."

"The Blacks. Yeah, the last non-Slytherin Black was nine generations ago."

"There was ever a non-Slytherin Black?" Sirius seemed amazed. "And how do you even know this?"

James turned to his friend. "You're a _Black_?" he asked incredulously.

Sirius stiffened; he obviously hadn't told James yet, as it was a touchy subject. "Yeah," he muttered.

"Good thing you want to be different, then!" stated James. Sirius nodded, brightening a little.

Rieta's brow furrowed. "What's wrong with the Blacks?"

"They're one of the ancient pureblood families, which means they'll go as far as to intermarry to avoid having their bloodline 'tainted'," snorted Sirius. "Extreme prejudice against Muggles and muggle-borns."

"So that's why your mum called me a mudblood?" Sirius grunted in the affirmative.

" _That's_ what you were talking about before!" James declared with the air of one having an epiphany. Rieta inclined her head towards him in agreement.

"Anyway." Sirius ignored this outburst. "Pretty much every member of every prejudice pureblood family goes into Slytherin, so that's why it's the bad house."

"But what makes a Slytherin is ambition," argued Rieta.

"Oh yeah, those snakes are very ambitious — and prepared to do just about anything to reach their goal."

Rieta muttered something inaudible.

"What was that?" James asked, leaning forward.

"I said, I'm very ambitious, too."

"Oh. But you're nice. You'll be in Gryffindor." He leant back again.

"Your houses aren't defined by your niceness — their defined by your prominent traits," she muttered, louder this time.

"Whatever," shrugged James.

Sirius tried to think of something to defuse the tension, but came up dry. Rieta stood and walked to the window, above which was the luggage rack. She tucked her top into her jeans and breathed deeply. She then turned and reached up to grab on of the metal bars on it.

"What are you doing?" both boys asked at once.

Rieta gave no reply. She jumped up and heaved her feet to where her hands were and hooked her legs, up to her knees, between two bars. Then she let go with her hands and lowered her upper body back down so she was vertical like a bat, her face looking out the window at the scenery rushing past.

Awkwardly, she pulled the glass sideways and a blast of wind hit her, stinging her cheeks a little. There she hung, watching the rolling hills and trees, swaying slightly to the jolts of the train, but perfectly stable.

Her hair hung thickly like a wavy brown curtain and her face was turned away from the others. Her jeans fell away from her converses a bit and her hands held onto the windowsill, and every now and again they jumped up to tuck in her shirt a bit as it continuously slipped out in little bits. She said nothing, lost in her own thoughts.

"Um… Rieta?" ventured Sirius. "Isn't that a bit, well, dangerous?" He had to say this about three times to get an answer.

"I'll stop before enough blood goes into my head that I faint when I do come down. I know how to measure these things." Her tone was monotonous. Sirius and James glanced at each other. Without turning around, Rieta sensed this. "I'll be fine. I need to think with being stared at."

The boys accepted this as the best they'd get.

Rieta sighed quietly. She knew if you got into Slytherin she would no longer have this highly- opinionated boys as he friends, but she _wanted_ to get into Slytherin. It definitely sounded like the house out of the four where she would fit in. And surely, she would be able to make new friends in her own house.

But on the other hand, if what Sirius had said about most Slytherins was true, she'd be faced with a lot of prejudice from her housemates because of her blood status. She let out a little groan. Hopefully, she would not be the one who had to decide how she was sorted — _Hogwarts, a History_ had only said it was a secret revealed to each first year when it happened.

Rieta heard the compartment door open and a boy's tired voice ask, "Can I sit in here?" James's voice asked why they didn't have their own compartment, and over the rattle of the door closing the boy informed them that a group of giggling girls had lost _their_ compartment for who knows what reason and decided to make themselves comfortable in his. Then he must of noticed Rieta, for he gasped. "Who's that and what in the world are they doing?"

"That would be Harrietta Olivia Grandy, and she's being a bat. We don't know why." Sirius chuckled.

Rieta opened her mouth. "Call me Rieta," she told the new boy, whom she had yet to see.

"It speaks!" cried Sirius in mock astonishment, and James laughed appreciatively, then it was cut off and a draw of breath indicated he was about to speak himself. But Sirius beat him to it. "What happened to you?" he asked.

There was silence for a beat as Rieta tried to figure out what Sirius could be talking about, then the new boy sighed and said embarrassedly, "I fell into a rose bush."

"Ouch. Okay, so that's Rieta. And you are…?" James prompted.

"Remus Lupin," the boy replied, sounding relieved.

"Middle name?"

"Why?"

"Well," began Sirius. "We all know each other's here, so before we introduce ourselves to you we need to know yours."

There was a hint of amusement in the boy, Remus's, tone when her answered. "John," he said. "Remus John Lupin."

"And I'm James Potter. Unfortunately, I don't have a middle name." Rieta could imagine James sticking his hand out to Remus.

"I'm Sirius Orion… Well, that's my first name and middle name. You don't need to know my last name."

"Mate, just explain you're the opposite of them," James coaxed. "Remus here'll understand."

Sirius drew a breath as Rieta listened more attentively. "I bloody hate my family (and they hate me right back!) and I think their prejudices are wrong and stupid and I hate them all and, well, yeah…" He trailed off, then said, "Black. My surname's Black."

* * *

Remus gasped, glancing apprehensively down at his scarred hands, then remembered what Sirius had said before his confession, and relaxed. But he saw Sirius had stiffened up at his reaction.

"It's okay. I understand," he reassured the black haired boy. "You didn't choose who you were born to."

* * *

Rieta decided this was a good time to join them. She had cooled down, and had a handle on her emotions, so she flipped backwards and landed deftly on her feet before plopping herself onto the nearest free seat, and looked around.

Rieta was sitting on the same side of the compartment as the one who could only be Remus Lupin, opposite Sirius and James. All three of them were staring at her.

"Catching flies, are we?" she teased, smirking.

Three mouths snapped shut.

Sirius sat up suddenly. "Oh! James, you wanted to meet a good Slytherin? I'll introduce you to my cousin, Andromeda. She's in fourth year." He stood up and held a hand out to the messy haired boy.

James shrugged. "Eh, why not?" He took Sirius's hand and heaved himself up, then turned to Remus and Rieta. "We'll be back soon, bye."

And they were gone.

Now that the two boys had left, Rieta took the chance to observe their new compartment- mate.

The boy was eleven, too. He had short, sandy-brown hair and a rather strong build. But what really drew her attention were the scars. Everywhere she could see. Rieta realised this must have been what Sirius had meant when he said 'what happened to you'.

A rose bush… the other boys seemed to have bought it, but Rieta, knowing that they probably barely even knew what that was as purebloods, and would be used to the strange plants she had seen in her herbology book, not such mundane things as roses.

She stuck out her hand. "Rieta, and you're Remus right?"

Remus nodded and took her hand. "Yeah, Remus Lupin."

Rieta raised her eyebrows. "I'd like to meet the parents of the kid named 'wolf wolf'."

Remus blushed and looked away hurriedly — an odd reaction, Rieta noted absently. "Yeah, I guess it is stupid."

Rieta frowned; she hadn't said anything about it being stupid, just strangely coincidental. In fact, she hadn't even said that. But that was Remus's opinion.

She settled for asking about something else. "I didn't know rose bushes could take steroids."

Remus's blush increased, but he answered competently. "No, my mother's fertiliser is just quite effective." Rieta was pleasantly surprised that he knew the Muggle reference.

"So you are from the non-magical world?"

"Half-blood — my mum's a Muggle. I've got a foot in each world."

"What about your dad, he pureblood?"

"Yeah, it sometimes causes… problems between us." At Rieta's encouraging look he continued. "He was raised to have certain views, and that can conflict rather, well, explosively when it comes to some things about me." He sighed.

"How bad?" Rieta asked sympathetically.

"Sometimes I wonder if he…" Remus trailed off, his voice cracking slightly, and Rieta suddenly found the need to get up and check out the view outside the window. When she turned back around, she declined to mention the minute redness of her companion's eyes.

"So tell me, does anyone in the magical world see things in full colour? Or is it just black and white, good and evil, for all?"

"I like to think I've got a large spectrum, but not many actually do," he shrugged.

They sat in neutral silence for a while, before the door opened again and James and Sirius reentered. The former had a contemplative look on his face.

As if on cue, there was another knock and a kindly looking middle aged lady stuck her head in. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"

Rieta reached up and grabbed her money bag from the outside pocket of her trunk, the three others doing the same.

 _Part 3: Talk to the hat_

' _As if on cue, there was another knock and a kindly looking middle aged lady stuck her head in. "Anything from the trolley, dears?"_

 _Rieta reached up and grabbed her money bag from the outside pocket of her trunk, the three others doing the same.'_

* * *

In the end, they had a total of six boxes of Bertie Botts Every Flavour Beans, twenty-nine chocolate frogs and sixteen pumpkin pasties. Rieta had never seen anything like these sweets, so she checked with the others before putting anything in her mouth.

"Now," said Sirius, his mouth full. "Those there, they're Every Flavour Beans, and when they say every flavour —" He swallowed the gesticulated largely with his arms. "They mean _every flavour_. You can't eat a box without getting some disgusting ones."

"Really?" Remus looked up at this. "I can eat two boxes without eating single a disgusting one."

James snorted. "Impossible!"

Remus shook his head. "Not impossible!"

"Then, I dare you to prove it!"

"Very well." Remus picked up a box and put his hand in. He peered after it, and once he'd rummaged around a bit, pulled out a small, dark brown one.

"Poop flavour?" asked James excitedly.

Remus popped it into his mouth. "Dark chocolate," he corrected, grinning blissfully. He then pulled out a golden one.

"Fudge?" James wondered.

Remus tossed the bean aside. "Earwax," he surmised.

This went on and on, Remus pulling out good one after good one and eating them and bad one after bad one and throwing them away. Sirius and James watched incredulously as he proceeded to empty two whole boxes in this manner.

"Bloody hell, how did you…?" James couldn't understand how Remus had succeeded.

The boy in question grinned smugly and fingered the pile of bad ones. "Any takers?"

"You really meant it when you said 'every flavour'." It was not a question. Rieta stared at the boxes in horror.

"Yeah." Sirius grinned and offered her one of the unopened boxes. "Care to try one?"

Reluctantly, cautiously, Rieta reached a hand it and popped a random bean into her mouth. "It tastes like… pumpkin," she said after a beat.

"That's one of the better ones," decided James. He too popped a bean in his mouth. He chewed, then immediately spat it out, making a face. "Uugghh! Banana."

"You don't like banana?" Rieta asked curiously. James shook his head vehemently.

"Ah! You've wounded me!" Sirius cried dramatically, throwing a hand to his chest. Rieta and Remus rolled their eyes.

"Banana is evil! Strawberry is better!" declared James.

"Oh, quit arguing," Remus sighed, and pulled two beans out of the now-open box — one was yellow and the other strawberry. He tossed them across. "There you. Eat up and leave us in peace."

James and Sirius bit into their beans, then James exclaimed loudly, "How in the world did you know these were the right flavours?!"

"It's my special gift," the sandy haired boy replied, winking.

"Unreal," breathed James.

"Inhuman," agreed Sirius in awe.

A dark look flickered over Remus's face at the last comment, but it was gone so quickly no one but Rieta noticed, and so fast that she doubted it was even ever there.

The rest of the ride passed amiably, with the four first years chatting about whatever came to mind. Rieta learned more about the three boys' different stances on the four Houses. S it turned out, James's father was Gryffindor but his mother a Ravenclaw. Rieta asked James and Sirius what was the 'leagues of Quidditch' they had been talking about, and they explained about how Quidditch was like any other sport, with highly talented teams being higher ranked than less talented teams that were lower ranked.

"And what team do you root for?" Rieta asked James.

"Puddlemere United!" James replied proudly.

"Same here!" Sirius declared. "Remus?"

"Chudley Cannons," he responded.

"Hey, Remus?"

Remus turned to Rieta. "Yes?"

"How long is this train ride?"

"About seven hours, I think."

"And the time is… just before six. Don't you think we should be getting changed?"

"You're right," decided James.

Rieta grabbed her trunk, pulled it down and rummaged around until she found her bag with some robes in them. Then she headed for the door.

"Where are you going, Rieta?" Sirius asked.

"I'm a girl, Sirius."

"Oh. Right."

Rieta left the compartment and wandered up the corridor until she located the toilets, where she changed. Just in time, too, for as she was returning a magically magnified voice informed them all that they would be arriving at Hogwarts shortly, and to leave baggage on the train to be delivered directly to their dormitories. She knocked on the compartment door. "You guys ready yet?"

"Yeah, c'mon in." Sirius's voice came from inside.

Rieta complied. She shoved her clothes back inside her trunk and did it up. She had brushed out her hair in the bathroom, and it was now plaited together over her shoulder so it wouldn't get tangled again and get in her way. All three boys were now in plain black robes as well, with their ties and white shirts showing through.

The train started to slow down, and then after about a minute, it came to a juddering stop.

They exited the compartment,leaving the trunks as they had been instructed. Then they joined the flood of students pouring out of the exits. The came out onto a small dark platform, and wind whipped through the night air, making the four huddle in their robes.

"What do we do now?" Remus asked uncertainly.

But then they got their answer in the form of a loud voice raised over the hubbub of excited children. "Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!" A bobbing lantern appeared, and with it a huge, bearded face raised higher than all the rest. The voice, which was still summoning the first years, came from that face.

"Come on," ushered Rieta heading towards the gigantic man and checking to see if Sirius, Remus and James were following — they weren't. "Hurry up!" she called. Finally, they came.

The voice they were following came again. "C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!" They caught up to the man and a group of fellow first years, and, slipping and stumbling, they followed him down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Rieta thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much.

"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," the big man called over his shoulder, "jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!" The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n four to a boat!" the man called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore and pulling them out of their awe. Remus, Rieta, James and Sirius all climbed into one together. It seemed a bit too rickety to hold under their weight, but hold it did.

"Everyone in?" shouted the big man, who had a boat to himself. "Right then - FORWARD!" And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

Suddenly, Rieta's peaceful thoughts were broken when something bumped against the bottom of her boat. Hard. She was on the opposite side that was bumped, and screamed as she was flung into the water. Just before she hit the surface she heard the big man's voice yell "STOP!" And the she felt what was like a slab of rock beneath her back, and she was plunged under.

Rieta had many talents, but she couldn't swim.

Dimly she heard voices yelling her name, but they were blocked out by the water as she sank down, struggling but not getting anywhere. She hadn't had a chance to take a breath; she was going to drown!

Then, she felt a strong, thick tentacle wind around her waist, and she was being hauled up, up, up! She broke the surface, coughing and spluttering, and looked down to see a gigantic, slimy orange squid arm holding onto her. It placed her gently down on her boat again and withdrew, down and back into the lake. She shoved her wet bangs out of her eyes and sighed, then made to turn around but was cut of by a familiar voice.

"Miss! Are yeh alrigh'?"

Rieta looked over the rim of the boat and saw the big man treading water beside her. "When I saw yeh go under, I swam over, bu' the Giant Squid bea' me too it," he explained.

"The Giant Squid, Mr…?" Rieta trailed off.

"Rubeus Hagrid," he supplied.

"Okay, Mr. Hagrid — the Giant Squid?"

"Yeah, there's a Giant Squid in the lake. Seems it accidently banged yeh boat, and then grabbed yeh when yeh fell. I'm jus' glad yeh alrigh'. What's yeh name, missy?"

"Harrietta Grandy, sir. Pleased to meet you."

Mr. Hagrid smiled. "Pleased teh mee' yeh, too. Well, we best be off. We're a bi' behind schedule now." And he swam off, back to his boat.

The boats started moving again, as Rieta was bombarded with questions by the boys in her boat (and people from other boats, too), checking she was alright and asking what it had been like when she'd established that she was. Rieta answered terrifying, frightening, and at the end, kinda cool.

"Heads down!" yelled Mr. Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbor, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles. Then they clambered up a passageway in the rock after Mr. Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door. "Everyone here?" Mr. Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.

The door creaked and opened instantaneously, as though it were waiting for the knock, which it probably had been. Behind it stood Professor McGonagall. Reita grinned upon seeing her — a familiar face at last! The older woman's black hair was in a tight bun again, and her robes, though deeper, were still green.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Mr. Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door wider. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit the whole of the Rieta's family's house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Harry could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must already be here - but Professor McGonagall showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

 _If anyone had read their textbooks, they' already know this_ , Rieta thought. _Oh well, it was probably only the muggle-borns like myself who did._ But McGonagall was already continuing on with her clearly well-rehearsed speech.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her sharp eyes scanned the room, as though looking for messy kids and troublemakers. Then they landed on Rieta. She frowned for a moment, then her face became one of anxiousness. She strode forward. "Miss Grandy! What in the world happened to you?"

Rieta twisted her hands together. "Um, the Giant Squid made me fall into the lake… but it's okay, because he — it? — rescued me."

McGonagall sighed. She pulled out her wand and muttered an incantation that sounded like " _Siccum_." Instantly, Rieta's clothes and skin were dry and her hair was losing its dampness.

"Please take care of yourself in the future, Grandy," she sighed. Then she addressed all of them. "I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly." She turned and with long strides left the chamber, seeming to be heading towards the right hand doorway where all the chattering had been coming from.

As soon as the professor was out of sight, chatter broke out. James turned to Rieta. "Do you two know each other?" he asked, referring to Professor McGonagall. "She knew your name and everything."

"She came to my house to initiate me to the world of magic," Rieta explained. James accepted this.

"Do you know how we get sorted?" a voice asked from behind the quartet. They turned to see a slightly plump, blonde haired boy looking at them.

"No," Remus answered. "It's a closely guarded secret that you only find out when it happens to you. But it doesn't hurt, or anything, and you won't have to do anything you haven't learnt yet."

"Oh." The boy seemed a bit disappointed, a bit relieved, but brightened and held out a hand. "I'm Peter Pettigrew, by the way."

Reita inspected the hand as inconspicuously as she could while they boys took it and introduced themselves. Seeing it to be clean, she accepted it when it was offered her way. "Harrietta Grandy," she told Peter. "But call me Rieta."

"Do you know what house you want to be in?" This boy seemed insatiably curious. "I don't really mind, but I would prefer Gryffindor," he admitted.

"Same here," declared Sirius and James at the same time, then glanced at each other and burst out laughing. Remus and RIeta ignored their antics.

"Ravenclaw, and if not, Gryffindor," the former told Peter, who then seemed to expect Rieta to say something. She twisted her hands again, uncomfortable.

"Slytherin," she confessed, highly reluctantly.

James and Sirius stopped chuckling. "Slytherin?" James was incredulous.

"Haven't we just told you why that house is terrible?" Sirius was staring at her. Remus and Peter were standing back, looking uncomfortable.

"I just still think I'll fit in best there," she told them.

Both boys opened their mouths to retort, but Rieta was saved from having to hear it when a sharp voice spoke.

"The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. "Now, form a line," she continued to the first years, "and follow me."

The first years compiled hastily, and they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

Rieta had never even imagined such a strange and splendid place. It was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here, so that they came to a halt in a line facing the other students, with the teachers behind them. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty silver.

Mainly to avoid all the staring eyes, she looked upward and saw a velvety black ceiling dotted with stars. He heard Remus whisper, "Its bewitched to look like the sky outside." Rieta nodded, and whispered back, "I see I'm not the only one who read _Hogwarts, A History_." Remus smiled in agreement.

The book was right — it was hard to believe there was a ceiling there at all, and that the Great Hall didn't simply open onto the heavens. Riet quickly looked down again as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. _The secret of the Sorting!_ she thought excitedly.

On top of the stool McGonagall put a pointed wizard's hat. This hat was patched and frayed and extremely dirty. _What's that supposed to do?_ Rieta wondered.

For a few seconds, there was complete silence. Then the hat twitched. A rip near the brim opened wide like a mouth — and to all the first years' astonishment, the hat began to sing.

 _[Insert song here]_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became quite still again.

 _So that's it! Not_ too _much of a let down_ , thought Rieta.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Troy!"

A nervous boy with blonde hair and a short stature walked up to the stool and at down McGonagall placed the hat on his head, and Rieta felt a little sorry for him, having to go first. After a short pause, the hat called, "HUFFLEPUFF!" The right hand table cheered, and he ran, red faced, to them.

"Bones, Edgar!" McGonagall called. A brown-haired boy hurried forward, as if eager to get it over with.

This time the hat took longer to make its decision. "HUFFLEPUFF!" it finally shouted. Then Rieta's attention was drawn by a familiar name.

"Black, Sirius!"

Sirius got his wish. A moment after the ha touched his head, it declared, "GRYFFINDOR!"

"Brown, Rosemary!"

"GRYFFINDOR!"

"Bulstrode, Kent!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

Rieta had to admit, he didn't look the nicest.

"Chancey, Clarissa!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

"Evans, Lily!"

Rieta was interested in this sort. Would Lily get into Slytherin, like her friend Severus wanted?

But the moment the hat touched her dark red hair, it shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!" Rieta turned to the sound of Severus letting out a tiny groan at this. Lily smiled sadly at him as she passed to get to the furthest left table. Rieta saw Sirius move up the bench to make room for her. She took one look at him, seemed to recognize him from the train, folded her arms, and firmly turned her back on him.

"Fletcher, Thomas!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

Rieta saw that sometime the hat made a quick decision, sometime it took longer. Thomas's sorting took over a minute. He seemed to be having a silent conversation with it.

And then —

"Grandy, Harrietta!"

Rieta hadn't realised how nervous she was until now. She forced her legs to take step after step, and then she was sitting on the stool and the hat was on her head.

 _Please, if you are about to make a split-second decision, explain first_ , she thought quickly.

 _Well, if this is going to be slow, how about you tell me your preferences_ , the hat replied.

 _I assumed you could read our minds._

 _I can, but that doesn't mean I don't enjoy a good conversation and a well-reasoned sorting. Well, then, how about… Hufflepuff?_

 _I don't think I'd be dedicated enough. I'm dedicated when it comes to activities I take pleasure in, but not in general._

 _True enough, true enough… Gryffindor then?_

 _Gryffindor seems the house of the reckless ones, and if anything I overthink._

 _Not necessarily a bad thing, and you certainly have courage._

 _But I prefer the less head-on way when possible._

 _True enough, true enough_ , the hat repeated. _Ravenclaw?_

 _I am studious, but not to the point of studying for pleasure, as James told me his mother does. And I like to learn from the teachers instead of pre-studying for myself. Preparedness, but prepared also to be taught._

 _That leaves Slytherin… and I must ask, if you had such thought out arguments for the other three Houses, why didn't you just ask for Salazar's in the first place._

…

 _How utterly sly of you! You just wanted it to seem like this took some thought and you weren't predestined to go in Slytherin._

 _If it appears it was a hard decision people like Sirius and James won't automatically assume I am evil because of my placement. I am cunning and sly, determined and ambitious, quick witted and resourceful; self-preserving and subtle, but does that mean I can't also be brave and loyal and clever and well-rounded. Can't I be Hufflepuff patient and tolerant and fair along with Ravenclaw inquisitive and intelligent and logical as well as Gryffindor daring and proud and firm, but still belong in Slytherin?_

 _You really are a breath of fresh air, Ms. Grandy. Now, about your sorting. ou know many people will shun you if you are in Slytherin? Including your fellow Slytherins?_

 _I know_ , Rieta told the hat sadly.

 _Don't worry_ , the hat reassured her. _Your friends will understand. Just talk to them._

 _So, Slytherin?_

In answer the hat yelled.

"SLYTHERIN!"

Before removing the hat Rieta steeled herself. Sure enough, there were only a few claps from the second table on the right, and of course none from anywhere else. She made her way over, composed, her face as blank as Sirius's had become again, watching her from the Gryffindor table. Their eyes met, but he looked away. Inwardly, Rieta crumpled a bit, but she remained dignified as she made her way over to the house table to find a seat. She avoided those who were seemingly instinctively bending away from her, and found herself, in the end, sitting next to a moderately-welcoming black haired older girl on one side and a long stretch of blank bench on the other.

The Sorting had continued. Once she had made her way through the Hs, Is and Ks (No Js.), McGonagall called out "Lupin, Remus!"

Rieta looked up at this, interested to see where Remus would go. The hat took about thirty seconds before shouting out his house.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Rieta then zoned out until she heard the name "Pettigrew, Peter!" Peter, too was sorted in Gryffindor, as was James, who was right after him.

Just before James reached the Gryffindor table, he too glanced at Rieta, but he too looked away, although with a sort of sad smile, before sliding in next to Sirius. Rieta's inward sobs increased, but she miraculously managed to keep them from becoming outward sobs.

"Snape, Severus!"

"SLYTHERIN!"

This time more of the table (although not all of it), including Rieta, clapped, and as Severus made his way over he looked at Rieta, and she made room on the bench for him, indicating he should sit. He complied, and slid in beside her. A long haired, pale blonde boy with black streaks in his hair and a shiny Prefect badge patted him on the back.

"So," said a cold voice from behind Rieta. "Half-blood or mudblood?"

The newly-sorted Slytherin turned to see a sneering, older girl staring at her. She looked to be in fifth year, and had long black hair that hung in ringlets down her back. She reminded Rieta of someone, but she couldn't think who…

"Sirius!" she said suddenly. "You remind me of Sirius," she elaborated.

The girl nodded. "Ah yes, my _Gryffindor_ cousin. Bellatrix Black, Sirius Black. Although he can hardly be called a Black anymore. Well?"

Rieta stared uncomprehendingly at her.

"Your blood status," Bellatrix snapped. You aren't a pureblood — Grandy isn't a name I know and I know all the pureblood names. So, half-blood or mudblood?"

"Mudblood and proud of it," Rieta responded firmly.

Bellatrix sneered contemptuously. "A mudblood in Slytherin! That hat…" She trailed off, muttering curses, and turned away after shooting Rieta one last glare.

"Muggle-born?" Severus asked her in surprise. Rieta nodded. Before either of them could say anything, Dumbledore (the headmaster) rose to his feet. "Let the feast begin!" He spread his arms.

"Woah," whispered Severus, and Rieta looked where he was looking and gasped — there was platters of food all over the table!

Rieta helped herself to everything she could reach, piling her plate high and wolfing it down. Then, half an hour later, the food disappeared and was replaced with desserts of every kind. Rieta was particularly partial to the honey pudding, she found. She chatted with Severus as she ate, and found him quite an interesting person, although he talked about Lily a lot.

After all the food was gone, Dumbledore stood again. "Ahem — just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you.

"First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors.

"Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. That is all. Your prefects will lead you to your common rooms, and will inform you of the password." The white-bearded man sat back down again, as the rest of the Great Hall became a flurry of activity.

Rieta and Severus followed the blonde boy, who had introduced himself as Lucius Malfoy to Severus while pointedly ignoring Rieta, down a set of stair and along a dark corridor. The common room was located in the dungeons.

"The new password is 'anguis'," Lucius declared, stopping at a blank black wall and turning to the mass of students below him. He turned and declared the password to the wall, out of which a stone door appeared and slid open, and all the students filed in. "Welcome to Slytherin."

The Slytherin common room was a long, low underground room with rough stone walls and ceiling from which round, greenish lamps were hanging on chains. A fire was crackling under an elaborately carved mantelpiece ahead of them, and around were several high-backed chairs and armchairs.

Lucius and a blonde girl who called herself Narcissa Black directed the girls and boys to their separate dormitories, up a small flight of stairs. At the top was a row of doors marked first years, second years, third years and so on. Rieta rushed into the first year one ahead of the other girls and chose a bed next to the lone window, which when she looked through it was just above the surface of the lake, but high enough that a wave wouldn't splash up.

The beds were four posters, with lush green duvets and quilts. Ignoring the other girls, who were doing the same for her, Rieta took out her pajamas from her trunk and drew the curtains around her bed to get changed, then crawled under the covers and rested her head on two surprisingly soft pillows.

She was asleep almost at once, and if she dreamed at all, she couldn't remember it when she woke.

 **A/N: Wow! 10,000 words. Next one probably won't be as long.** **If you noticed an mistakes or inconsistencies, please tell me in a review. The next chapter will not be in 1995, as those are interludes. It will probably take a couple of months, but I AM NOT ABANDONING, so never fear! Rieta will be back!**

 **Please review!**

 **Bye!**


	4. IMPORTANT NOTE: NOT AN UPDATE

**This is an abandonment note. I am sorry to say that I have lost all inspiration for this story and see no point in continuing at this current time. Perhaps I will get back to it one day but for now, Year of Beginnings is abandoned.**

 **Sadly,**

 **—RoyalRose161**


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